Addicted
by LW107
Summary: Will an unexpected tryst between Mark and Izzie turn into something more?  McStizzie, and a little MerDer.
1. Chapter 1

She hated the way he looked at her when he spotted her in the hotel lounge. The look on his face was a mixture of sympathy and irritation, the combination of which made Izzie want to turn around and flee the bar. She held her ground, though, raising her chin defiantly as he crossed the hotel's impeccable carpet, his eyes never wavering from her face as he took a seat next to her.

"Izzie, you can't do this. You can't just call my room and tell me that you're waiting for me in the hotel bar! What if Callie had answered the phone?" he questioned with exasperation.

Izzie's face flushed as George said his wife's name, but she refused to back down from why she'd come. "I had to see you, George," she told him, hating the desperation that was evident in her voice. She looked away from him briefly in embarrassment, turning to the bar in front of her and picking up her glass of chardonnay, finishing the drink in a single swallow. Taking a breath, she turned back to him. "Callie told me that you guys are…are trying to have a baby."

He sighed when he saw the fear in her eyes, finally understanding what had inspired this impromptu meeting. "Yeah, we are," he answered simply, glancing away from her face when he saw her flinch.

She was reasonably sure that he couldn't have hurt her more if he'd ripped her heart out with his bare hands. Not even trying to mask her disappointment, she looked at him pleadingly. "But…but I…I thought…"

He cut off her stammering with a glare. "You've got to stop this, Izzie. What happened between us was a mistake, and we have to move on. I'm married, and my wife and I are planning on starting a family. There can't be anymore conversations about us in the scrub rooms, no more kissing in elevators, and especially no more late night visits to my hotel. There's never going to be an 'us,' do you understand? It can't happen, so just stop this," he said impatiently, ignoring her wounded look as he rose from the bar stool, quickly exiting the lounge.

She watched him walk into one of the elevators located just beyond the bar's entrance, her heart breaking as she saw the doors close in front of him, sending him back upstairs to his wife. That was definitely _not_ how she'd pictured their meeting in her mind.

She wiped a tear away absently as she turned back to the bar, suddenly feeling overwhelming lonely. The bartender walked up to her, seeing her tears. "You okay, Sweetie?" the middle aged woman asked, leaning towards Izzie understandingly.

Izzie sniffed as she shook her head, swiping at another tear before it had a chance to fall down her cheek. "I need a shot of tequila," she said straightforwardly, ignoring the quiver in her voice. "And keep them coming."

It didn't take long before her comfortable buzz turned into full out drunkenness. She knew that she should cut herself off – she had to get home somehow, after all, and that could be tricky given her intoxication – but the amber liquid was stubbornly refusing to numb her pain, so she signaled for another shot.

"You sure that's a good idea?" a voice asked from behind her.

Izzie rolled her eyes as she recognized the strong, masculine tone, and she turned around to meet Mark Sloan's smug stare. "Oh please," she said, vaguely aware that her words were beginning to slur together. "I don't need a lecture from _you_ tonight."

Mark raised his eyebrows as he sat in the seat that George had vacated earlier. He signaled to the bartender, ordering a drink for himself. "Those are mighty brave words for an intern to say to her attending," he observed lightly, gladly accepting his drink from the bartender and taking a hearty sip.

Izzie glanced at him sideways. "Attending, huh?" she questioned, watching his face carefully. "So does that mean that you didn't get Chief of Surgery?"

He didn't immediately respond to her question as he downed the rest of his scotch, setting down the empty glass and requesting another before turning back to Izzie. "No, I didn't get Chief of Surgery," he admitted, his voice low.

She narrowed her eyes as she studied him, noting the strain on his features. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely before turning back to look at the countertop before her.

Knowing that she was not his biggest fan, Mark was surprised by her consideration. "Yeah, well, no one really thought that I had a chance at getting the position anyway," he acknowledged sullenly, brushing off her pity as he accepted his drink from the bartender.

She glanced back at his face when she heard the brooding tone to his voice. Giving him a small smile, she told him quietly, "I did."

He was unprepared for her kindness, and not knowing how to respond, he opted to ignore it. Clearing his throat in an effort to absolve the awkwardness, he looked down at the shot glass in front of her before bringing his eyes back up to her face. "So, what brings you to my hotel tonight, Dr. Stevens?" he asked her suggestively, bringing his face inches from hers. "Looking for some company?"

She was anything but surprised by his flirtation and, looking at him seductively through her long lashes, she eliminating even more space between them as she brought her head to his, their lips almost touching. "I'm _not_ having sex with you," she told him sarcastically, before rolling her eyes and leaning away from him.

Mark smiled, seemingly unfazed by her sarcasm. "Well, that's certainly too bad for _you_," her told her.

She rolled her eyes again as she poured salt on her fist. "If you only knew how great I am in bed, you wouldn't be saying that," she told him wryly.

Mark watched with interest as her tongue licked the white crystals from her hand, and she swallowed yet another shot of tequila, not even flinching as the liquid burned down her throat. He drew in a deep breath, surveying her intently as she picked up a wedge of lime, her full lips surrounding the fruit and sucking it of its juices.

The force of his desire hit him hard, virtually stealing the oxygen right out of his lungs. "Well, then why don't you show me," he whispered suggestively, his hand finding a place on her thigh.

Her breath caught in her throat when she felt his fingers graze suggestively along the inside of her leg, and she slowly dragged her eyes up to meet his waiting stare. "Okay," she said simply, her oath to not sleep with him suddenly forgotten as her skin began to tingle from his touch.

Mark knew that his face was a dead giveaway for his surprise, but he couldn't stop his mouth from falling open when she so readily agreed to hop into bed with him. Was this the same woman who'd repeatedly complained about his innocent flirtation?

"Okay?" he questioned suspiciously, certain that he must be falling into some sort of manipulative female trap.

Izzie set down her glass and picked up her purse from the countertop. Standing up, she looked lustfully at Mark, ignoring the obnoxious voice in her head that was telling her she was making a mistake. "You better hurry up," she told him as she turned around and started to leave the lounge. "It's going to be pretty hard for me to find your room if I'm all alone."

Mark turned back toward the woman behind the bar, seeing her raised eyebrows as she watched Izzie walk to the elevators. "Uh, charge our drinks to room 1082," he uttered as he stood up, quickly following in Izzie's trail.

He arrived just as the elevator doors were opening, and they both walked on, visibly disappointed to see other the other occupants on the lift. "Tenth floor, please," Mark muttered, walking behind Izzie to stand along the back wall.

The ride was quick, but it seemed agonizingly long to both Izzie and Mark, whose hands remained painfully glued to their sides. Mark felt as if his fingers were itching to roam Izzie's body, and he had to remind himself that it would only be a few more minutes before they reached the privacy of his suite.

They exited the elevator on the tenth floor, and Izzie followed behind Mark as he led the way to his room. She felt her heart begin to beat nervously in her chest when he stood outside of his door, digging into his pocket to find his keycard. _You're not making a mistake_, she silently repeated to herself. _This is the only way you're ever going to get over George_.

She heard the door unlock with a _click_ and she stepped forward as he pushed it open, walking into the darkened room. The door closed behind her and an instant later, a gasp escaped her lips as she felt his body collide with hers, his strong chest pressing against her back as his hands snuck around to cover her breasts.

Her head fell back against his shoulder when she felt his mouth cover the smooth skin on the side of her neck, and he eagerly roamed her body with his hands. She was intensely aware of his touch as he moved from the curve of her breasts down to her hips, his fingers barley skimming the inside of the waistband of her pants.

He surprised her when his hands moved back up so that he could grip her shoulders, turning her around so that she was facing him. In the darkness of the room, she watched him as his eyes traveled the length of her body, lustfully lingering on her curves.

"Like what you see?" she asked him seductively, feeling completely uninhibited by the alcohol in her system.

An animalistic sound escaped Mark's throat in response, and he roughly pulled her body to his, placing his hands on the buttons of her shirt. He growled in frustration when his shaky fingers fumbled with the tiny clasps, and, feeling himself losing control, he pulled forcefully at the lapels of the blouse, ripping the buttons free of their stitches.

Izzie giggled drunkenly as the buttons flew across the room, and Mark paused, suddenly realizing the full extent of her intoxication. Gritting his teeth, he somehow assembled the strength to push her gently away from his body as he shook his head slowly. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea," he told her carefully, his breath coming out in pants.

Izzie laughed giddily, pushing his hands away so that she could step toward him, molding her body to his. "I _know_ you don't mean that," she whispered, her hand sliding slowly between their bodies to rest on his obvious arousal.

That was all the encouragement Mark needed, and with that, he hastily guided her toward the bed, pushing her onto the mattress that hadn't seen any action since before his meaningless sixty-day pact with Addison Montgomery.

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Izzie groaned as the sun penetrated the curtains of the room, dragging her from sleep into a painful consciousness. She gingerly brought her hand up to rest on her pounding forehead, massaging it gingerly as she cringed at the taste of her dry, sour mouth.

A painful moan escaped her lips as she stretched her sore muscles, realizing that she had most likely slept in one position the entire night. _I'm never drinking again_, she thought regretfully as she began to wonder how she had gotten home from the bar after her many shots of tequila.

Her eyes widened in surprise and her body tensed when she suddenly felt a strong arm fall leisurely over her hip bone. _Oh Christ, what _happened_ last night?_ she thought frantically. Her brow furrowed as she wracked her brain to remember the events of the previous hours. She obviously recalled going to George's hotel to talk with him about their relationship. _Oh no! Did I sleep with George?_ she wondered, trying to push through the haze that surrounded the previous night's events.

Her eyes widened as a certain part of her bedmate's anatomy pressed intrusively into her lower back. _Oh…oh my…that's most definitely _not_ George_, she thought wryly, a quiet giggle escaping her lips.

As carefully as she could, she gradually removed herself from the arms of her unknown lover, sliding across the large bed and rising to the floor. She took a deep breath before slowly turning around, her eyes widening as she saw a slumbering Mark Sloan stretched sexily across the bed, a thin bed sheet doing little to mask his nudity. _You've _got_ to be kidding me_.

She could feel her cheeks flushing as the events of the previous night came rushing back to her, erotic memories suddenly filling her mind. _Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God._

Izzie's eyes scanned the room hastily, quickly pinpointing her clothes littered across the floor. Her arms subconsciously folded across her body in an attempt to conceal her nudity in case Mark were to awaken. _It's a little late to be concerned with modesty now_, she thought ironically, a blush spreading across her face as she remembered the things that she'd allowed Mark to do to her the night before.

Suddenly feeling an overwhelming urge to escape the room, Izzie walked over to her clothes, pulling on her panties and slacks, and then quickly fastening her bra before picking up her shirt from the floor. _Oh shit_, she thought, panicking as she looked at her tattered blouse. She sighed in frustration when she saw the buttons that had scattered across the floor. _What do I do?_

Her eyes fell to the white shirt that Mark had been wearing the night before, which rested in the same spot where she'd dropped it after stripping it from his body. She quietly walked over to the shirt, picking it up from the floor and eyeing it apprehensively. Izzie sighed when she realized that her options her wearing his obviously too-large shirt or looking like a hooker as she walked through the lobby of the hotel holding the front of her blouse closed with her hands.

Her mind made up, she quickly pulled the shirt over her head, grabbing her bag from the table by the door and stuffing her mutilated blouse inside of it. With one last glance at Mark's slumbering form, she cautiously let herself out of the room. _This never happened_, she thought as she quietly closed the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**A special thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter one!**

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Izzie entered the locker room in a rush, ignoring the curious stares from her roommates as she threw her bag into her locker, stripping off her shirt and replacing it with a scrub top. She knew she looked frazzled; her hair was still wet from the shower, and she hadn't had time to put on her makeup before heading out the door. To make matters worse, her eyes were swollen and red, a telltale sign of her sleepless night full of debauchery.

Meredith exchanged a worried look with Alex as she rushed passed them. They had awakened early as usual, surprised to find the house devoid of its typical morning smells of coffee and cooking breakfast. It hadn't taken them long to discover that their roommate was missing, and after calling her cell phone and discovering that it had been turned off, the two had reluctantly left for the hospital, their minds full of questions regarding Izzie's absence. "Where were you last night, Iz?" she asked, watching her as she hurried to get ready for rounds.

Izzie shrugged innocently, keeping her back to them as she pulled on her scrub bottoms. "I was at home," she said, surprised by how easily the lie slid from her tongue. "I just left the house early to run some errands. I tried to be quiet so I wouldn't wake you guys."

Alex lifted an eyebrow disbelievingly, an incredulous laugh escaping his lips. "You ran errands at four in the morning?"

Izzie's hands stilled nervously as she tied the knot of her pants. _Oh crap. _"Uh…yeah," she answered, her voice sounding unsteady with nervousness.

She was saved from further explanation when Dr. Bailey entered the room, staring at her interns with a scowl on her face. "Alright you three, there are only a few more days before you'll officially be considered residents, but we're short two interns, so you're going to have to pick up the slack in the mean time," she warned.

"We're short _two_?" Izzie questioned curiously, glancing at Alex and Meredith. She knew that Cristina had taken the week off for what would have been her honeymoon with Burke, but why were they short _two _interns? She turned to Dr. Bailey, confusion clearly written on her face. "Where's George?"

"George is…no longer in the program," Bailey told her vaguely, grimacing as she took in Izzie's appearance. "And what's wrong with you? You look like you've been hit by a truck."

Izzie blushed at Bailey's comment, but she pushed her embarrassment to the back of her mind. "What do you mean he's no longer in the program? Did he transfer to Mercy West?"

Bailey sighed at Izzie's persistence, but knowing that they would find out the truth eventually, she relented to her questions. "He failed his exams," she revealed quietly, her simple answer causing their faces to drop in surprise.

"O'Malley _failed_?" Alex questioned disbelievingly, though there was no trace of humor in his voice. He knew the feeling of failure, and he would certainly not be the one to judge his friend.

"But that's impossible!" Izzie said suddenly. "I just saw him last night; he didn't say anything about failing his exams."

Meredith looked sharply at Izzie as she admitted to being with George the night before. _What the hell's going on with those two?_ she silently wondered, narrowing her eyes as she looked curiously at her friend.

"Look, that's enough," Bailey said, waving away their comments with her hands. "This isn't something that needs to be discussed, so let's just drop it." She turned toward the door when she heard it fly open, frowning when she saw Cristina Yang walk through the doors. "Yang! What're you doing here?"

"What? You thought that I was just going to sit at home and sulk for the next week? I don't think so; I need to cut something," she said as she walked toward her locker.

Bailey's frown deepened as she looked at her interns. They all looked drained, as though their lives had suddenly become too much for them to handle. This was _exactly_ why she hadn't wanted them to become involved with their attendings in the first place. Obviously it had taken its toll on all of them. Well, all of them except for Stevens, the only intern smart enough to keep her pants up around her superiors; Bailey didn't know _what _was going on with _that_ girl. "All right, get it together, people," she told them, sighing as she turned toward the door. "Rounds start in five minutes."

Izzie sighed as she turned away from the door when it closed behind Bailey, looking apologetically toward Cristina. "I'm sorry about the wedding…"

Cristina held up her hand, silencing Izzie's condolences. "Can we not talk about that?" she asked sharply, causing Izzie's mouth to close abruptly. "Thanks," she said sarcastically.

"Izzie was just trying to be supportive, Cristina," Meredith said, trying to intervene.

"Well, I don't need support," she snapped, pulling on her scrubs. "What I need is a place to stay. I can't live in that apartment anymore. Can I stay with you guys? At least until I can get my own place?"

Meredith nodded her head immediately. "Of course you can. You can stay with us as long as you need," she offered. "I have a big, empty bed now, you know," she said sardonically, a fleeting image of Derek passing through her mind.

"Yeah, it'll be fun for us all to live together!" Izzie spoke up, clapping her hands enthusiastically.

Cristina looked annoyed as she observed Izzie, not surprised that she had regained her peppiness, despite her obvious exhaustion. "Oh Christ," she muttered at the thought of all that perkiness first thing in the morning. She slammed her locker door and turned around to exit the room.

Izzie rolled her eyes at Cristina's attitude, looking at her roommates as they started to follow Cristina out the door. "Well…it _will_ be fun," she insisted, closing her own locker and jogging to catch up with them.

As the four of them began their rounds, Meredith tugged lightly on Izzie's arm, pulling her gently so that they fell behind the others. "Did you stay with George last night?" Meredith whispered pryingly, staring intently at her friend.

Izzie's eyes widened at the question, and she looked at Meredith with disbelief. "What? No! No, of course not," she stammered, keeping her voice low to prevent Alex and Cristina from overhearing.

Meredith shook her head doubtfully, her gaze unwavering. "But you said that you saw George last night," she pointed out as they continued down the hallway. "And you never came home."

Izzie was unable to prevent herself from blushing at Meredith's observation. "No…no, I told you I was at home. I just left-"

"Oh please! Do you really think that we believe that?" she asked her incredulously.

Izzie paused, suddenly flustered by Meredith's interrogation. "Well, I can't _make _you believe me, but I did _not_ stay with George last night," she told her, feeling pride in herself for managing to include the truth in her explanation.

Meredith's eyes narrowed as they came closer to their patient's room. "This conversation isn't over," she quietly warned. "I _know_ that something's going on with you."

Dr. Bailey stopped in front of them just before entering the patient's room, turning to look down the hallway as she heard her name being called. "Dr. Bailey," Mark Sloan yelled, jogging to catch up with them before they headed into the room.

Izzie could feel her cheeks heat with embarrassment as he approached them, and she quickly looked to the floor, her heart beat quickening as she saw his shadow appear on the sterile linoleum.

"Dr. Sloan," Bailey acknowledged, not a trace of enthusiasm in her voice.

He smiled charmingly at her, unaffected by her unfriendly greeting. "I was hoping that I could steal one of your interns for the day," he said pleasantly.

Bailey waved her hands toward her group, unable to turn down her superior. "Take your pick."

Izzie closed her eyes tightly, silently willing herself to be invisible. _Please don't pick me, please don't pick me._

"Dr. Stevens," Mark said happily, his voice sounding as though he was a child who'd just selected a toy in a toy store.

_Crap._

She looked up to see her friends glancing at her sympathetically before disappearing though the doorway of the patient's room. Sighing, she turned toward Sloan, preparing herself for his inevitable offensive comments about their night together.

He smiled at her slightly before looking down at the chart in his hand. "Alright, I have a busy day," he told her, getting right down to business. "I have a rhinoplasty in an hour, a breast reconstruction at three, and I want to squeeze in a consultation during lunch time."

_Wait…what the hell's going on? No obnoxious comments about the last night? _Izzie stared disbelievingly at him as he filled her in on his plan for the day, but she couldn't stop the relief that she felt when he didn't comment on their exploits.

"Wait? That's it?" she asked with confusion, unable to stop the question from popping out of her mouth.

He stared at her cynically. "Is that not enough for you, Stevens?" he asked with irritation. "That's a full day of surgeries and paperwork. I doubt you'll wish there was more at the end of the day when your feet are aching and you're exhausted."

_What the hell? Why is he acting like nothing happened last night?_ _Oh my God, surely he hasn't forgotten! First George, and now him? I'm good in bed. No, I'm phenomenal in bed! How does this keep happening to me?_

But that was the only explanation she could think of; if Mark Sloan had remembered the night before, there was no way that he would've been able to resist harassing her about it.

She narrowed her eyes as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a wad of cash and holding it out to her. "And of course, I'll need a bone dry cappuccino and a blueberry scone," he told her with a smirk. "I can't start my day without them."

She was suddenly so grateful that she had escaped the potentially embarrassing situation, she forgot her conviction to not play the role of his errand girl, and she took the money from his hands without protest. With a nod, she turned around to walk toward the coffee cart, but she was stopped when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist, pulling her toward him.

"Oh, and one more thing," he whispered into her ear, causing her to shiver as his warm breath landed on her skin. "I want my shirt back."

He smirked when he saw the deep blush fall over her face, and he turned around to walk down the hallway, leaving her standing alone, her cheeks on fire.

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Please review :)


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: Thanks to all my reviewers of the last chapter. You guys motivated me so much, I wrote this instead of studying for my test tomorrow…woops, I better go do that now. But first, I'd like to thank a couple of people who left me feedback but don't have accounts (seriously, guys, you should get them! Hehe!):

**Ally**, you rock girl! You're always a great reviewer, but I can never respond to you because you don't have an account :( But I hope you know that you always rock my world! Thanks for your support during my stories!

**Emily**, thanks for your review, as well! Don't worry about being behind on some of the episodes. Virtually everything that will happen in this story is independent from Grey's Anatomy proper. If you're ever confused, though, email me (my email is on my profile) and I'll give you the low down!

**Mijah**, you are so right – how can you not love McStizzie? They are the epitome of perfection together! Thanks so much for your reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story!

**Emma, **MerDer are actually going to play a smaller part in this series, but they will make an appearance later. Thanks for your feedback :)

And of course, **Blair and Amanda**, alright people, I hope this makes up for the fact that you had to get up so freaking early this morning. Hopefully some McStiz will put a smile on your face. Oh, and here's a laugh for you – I started my preparations for my trip today…and I got burnt to a crisp. Woohoo. Oh, and Amanda, I think I would feel much better is I had chapter 5 to read. Yep, that's what I need.

Okay, sorry for the freaking longest author's note in the world. I bet you people aren't even reading this right now. Oh well, let's get on with it…

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Izzie entered the house in a huff, slamming the door behind her and sulking as she climbed the stairs to the second floor. She had never been as angry with anyone as she currently was with Mark Sloan. Hatred seeped from her pores as she thought of that vile man, remembering the mortifying day that he'd put her through. She scowled as she entered her bedroom, the slam of her door echoing down the hallway.

He'd spent his day ogling her during surgeries, sneaking appraising looks at her body over the table and then boldly meeting her eyes, smirking smugly. She'd felt her face flush with embarrassment each time she'd caught his eyes swooping over her curves, knowing that he was picturing her naked with humiliating accuracy. She'd wanted to scream at him, to yell that he'd never be taken seriously when he treated women with such little respect, but the room full of oblivious nurses had thwarted her outburst. It was just as well, though, because Izzie had decided that the best way to handle this situation was to completely ignore it. Surely if she didn't respond to his incites, he would move on to the next bimbo who'd let him in her bed.

Mark, of course, hadn't let Izzie off the hook that easily. She could still picture him walking smugly down the hallway in between surgeries, heading straight for her as she reviewed a chart at the nurse's station.

"_I need another cappuccino," he told her, smiling conceitedly when she glared at him._

"_I don't think so," she retorted, ignoring the money that he held in his outstretched hand. _

Mark had frowned at her refusal, grabbing the chart from her hands and setting it further down the counter so that it was out of her reach. "I'm your boss, Stevens, and I asked you to get me a cappuccino. Now you fetch…that's how this works," he said arrogantly, gesturing between Izzie and himself. 

"_You may be my boss, but I don't have to get you your freaking coffee. I'm an intern, and this is a teaching hospital. You teach, and I learn. I don't fetch."_

_His eyes narrowed as he watched her closely. "You'll fetch if you want in on surgeries," he told her, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'm in charge here, so you do what I say. It's nice to be on top," he said with a grin. "But you already know that, don't you?"_

_She felt her face heat at his obnoxious reference to their tryst, and she grabbed the money out of his hands, standing up from her chair. "Fuck you," she'd whispered furiously, turning around and heading down the hallway._

"_I think you already took care of that!" he'd yelled as she'd walked away, causing her blush to deepen._

Now in the safety of her bedroom, she picked his shirt up off her floor, looking at the offending fabric with disdain. Oh, she _really_ hated him. And as if his provoking comments and stares weren't bad enough, Izzie found that she couldn't escape an even more pressing dilemma concerning Mark Sloan; she couldn't stop thinking about him.

Closing her eyes, she couldn't help but picture him stretched across the bed below her, his hands placed on her hips as she straddled his lap. She could almost feel the sensations as they moved together in her memory, and it was enough to make her shiver with desire.

Her eyes flew open as she remembered the way she'd acted with such boldness the night before, and she threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in a pillow and letting out a blood curdling scream. The sensation of the shriek rising from her throat and disappearing into the pillow did little to alleviate her aggravation, though, and she groaned, squeezing her eyes shut and gripping her comforter tightly in her fists. _Ugh, what's wrong with me? _she thought.

She jolted slightly when she heard a light knock on the door and, sitting up, she quickly hid the shirt beneath her pillow. "Come in."

The door opened and Meredith's head peaked through the doorway, her face marked with curiosity. "What's wrong with you?" she asked. "We heard doors slamming."

Izzie sighed as she shook her head warily. "Sorry, I just had a long day. I hate working with Sloan; he's such an ass."

Meredith smiled at her friend, opening the door wider. "He's not so bad once you get to know him."

_Trust me, I know him better than you do_. "Doubtful," she said simply.

Meredith laughed. "Wow, I think he may have done the impossible; I think Sloan might've made you all dark and twisty," she said, leaning against the doorway and giving her friend a sympathetic smile. "Cristina and I are making margaritas in the kitchen. Why don't you come downstairs with us?"

Izzie briefly thought about her oath to never drink again, but she trampled the idea as she pictured Mark's shirt buried beneath her pillow. She could definitely use some alcohol.

With a nod of agreement, she followed Meredith downstairs into the kitchen, walking in just as Cristina was pouring a newly made batch of margaritas in two glasses. "We need one more," Meredith commented as they walked in, taking seats at the counter.

Cristina pulled out another glass and filled it to the rim, pushing it toward Izzie. "Doesn't it feel like we just did this?" she asked them ironically, thinking of her bachelorette party as she took a swallow of her own drink.

"Yeah," Meredith acknowledged, hostility seeping into her voice. "How is it that men always leave us bitter and drunk? Maybe we should become lesbians."

Cristina snorted as she rolled her eyes. "At least you're not falling into bed with inappropriate men this time."

_No, that's my job_, Izzie thought cynically, taking a hearty swallow of the salty drink in her glass. Oh, she really hated him.

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Izzie stormed the hallway of Seattle Grace, her hand firmly clutching Mark's shirt, which remained balled by at her side. Just as an orderly had predicted, she found him resting against the coffee cart in the lobby of the surgical wing, leaning toward the young woman behind the cart and flirting shamelessly.

She scowled as she walked toward them, stopping just inches away from his body. "I need to talk to you," she said in a low voice, watching his face intently as he turned toward her with interest.

"Ah, just who I wanted to see," he told her with a smile, the girl behind the coffee cart instantly forgotten.

She had to remind herself to breath as he inclined his body suggestively toward hers, and her eyes were suddenly drawn to the lips that she knew had the power to make her knees go weak with only the lightest of touches. Shaking herself from the thoughts, she looked at him sternly. "I need to _talk_ you," she repeated firmly, turning around and walking down the hallway.

He laughed lightly as he followed her, turning into an on call room behind her with his eyebrows raised. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist me, Stevens," he told her as she shut the door, locking it and turning around to look at his smug face.

She glared as she hurled his shirt towards his head. "There's your shirt," she growled, watching as he caught the flying material just before it hit his face. He laughed at her aggression, which only infuriated her more. "This isn't funny," she said seriously, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was a serious lapse in judgment on my part to sleep with you, and it wouldn't have happened if I hadn't been drinking."

She paused in her tirade, swallowing hard as he stepped toward her. She stiffened as his hand came up, tenderly cupping her face. "What…what're you doing?" she asked nervously, her eyes wide. She took a step back to put space between them, but she hit the door, the knob biting into her lower back."

"I'm touching you," he told her, his voice low and filled with desire as he drank in her features.

She shivered at his words, silently berating herself as she felt her head tilt into his hand. "I don't want you to touch me," she whispered as her eyes fluttered shut.

He smiled as he watched her eyelashes curl towards her skin. He didn't think that he'd ever seen someone so beautiful, and coming from him, that was no small feat. "Are you sure about that?" he whispered, his mouth hovering mere millimeters from hers.

She swallowed nervously, desire suddenly overwhelming her as she felt his warm breath against her lips. It registered briefly with her that his breath smelled of his early morning scone, and she couldn't help but wonder if he would taste as sweet. "Yes, I'm sure," she told him, but she contradicted herself as she took a step toward him, her breasts rubbing against chest.

A gasp escaped her mouth when his lips came crashing against hers, and she opened her mouth to him, allowing his tongue access. She moaned as his hands slid down between them, slipping beneath her scrub top and exploring her upper body with exquisite slowness.

Her breath hitched in the back of her throat as one of his hands traveled back down her body, dipping lazily beneath the waistband of her pants. She could feel her body stiffen against him, suddenly realizing what was happening. _Don't let yourself lose control!_ "No," she said unconvincingly, her eyes opening slowly. "I don't want this."

He smiled against her lips, his fingers easily finding their way beneath her panties. His eyes sparkled as he felt the full extent of her desire for him, and he pulled his face back slightly, watching her with a lustful expression. "Your body says differently."

_Holy mother of God._

Her head was spinning. She could barely breathe, let alone think. This couldn't be happening again, it just couldn't, especially when she didn't have alcohol coursing through her bloodstream; this time she had nothing to blame if she made another stupid mistake.

Her body suddenly went rigid as she heard running footsteps echoing on the other side of the door, and it occurred to her that there was only a thin barrier between her and the rest of the gossipmongers of Seattle Grace. With all the strength she could muster, she brought her hand up and placed it on his wrist, stilling his teasing fingers. "Stop it," she told him, her words coming out harshly. "This isn't happening again."

His eyes narrowed as he slowly removed his hand, taking a step backward. "Stevens -"

"No! I'm serious," she told him sternly as she readjusted her clothes and placed her hand on the knob. "I refuse to be another one of those gullible women that you string along, especially when you don't even call me by my first name."

He couldn't take his eyes off her as she spun around furiously, exiting the room with irritation. A smile suddenly broke out on his face, and he leaned idly against the wall, his thoughts consumed with Izzie Stevens.


	4. Chapter 4

**Gigi, Amanda and Blair**, I am aware that I said I was going to be updating Winding Road first, but this chapter was _bursting_ to get out of my head, so I just went with it. I'm halfway through the next chapter of WR, though, so it'll be up tomorrow. _Seriously_.

A special thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys are great!

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Izzie was exhausted by the time she finished her shift. Thankfully, she hadn't been assigned to Sloan's service again, but her day had still been marred by their encounter in the on call room earlier that morning. All day long, she'd attempted to think of anything but the sensation of his lips on hers, of his hands traveling her body, but she couldn't seem to get her mind to think about anything but Mark Sloan.

Izzie felt relief wash through her when she saw that she was the first one in the locker room; she was glad to have a minute alone to pull herself together before her nosy friends finished up their shifts. With a tired sigh, she walked toward her locker, flinging open the door to pull out her things. She stilled with surprise, though, when she found Mark's shirt folded neatly on top of her tote bag.

Her eyes narrowed as she pulled it from her locker, watching as a note fell from inside the shirt, dropping to the floor. She pursed her lips as she bent over, feeling slightly irritated as she picked up the small piece of paper.

_You can keep it since I ruined your shirt. __ I'm sure it looks sexier on you than it does on me._

A small smile of amusement crept across her face as she refolded the note, and she shook her head slightly at his audacity. With a roll of her eyes, she stuffed the shirt into the bottom of her tote bag, pushing it beneath a granola bar and a magazine so that it was out of site.

Meredith and Cristina walked into the room just as she was pulling her hand from the bag, and she jumped slightly when she saw them, looking at them guiltily. Cristina gave her a curious look before turning back to Meredith. "What's wrong with Barbie?" she mumbled to her as they walked toward their lockers, earning another eye roll from Izzie.

Meredith laughed, shrugging her shoulders as she pulled her bag from her locker and began to change out of her scrubs. "Hey, let's go to Joe's for a few drinks before we go home," Meredith suggested to them as she pulled on her shirt.

It took no convincing on her part to get her two roommates to go with her to Joe's. Izzie and Cristina both readily agreed, and they were all seated at the bar within fifteen minutes of Meredith's proposition. "Three shots of tequila, Joe," Meredith said as he walked up to them expectantly.

Izzie shook her head adamantly at Meredith's order. "Nope, sorry. I've sworn off tequila," she said sternly. "Just get me a glass of chardonnay, please."

When Joe disappeared to make their drinks, Meredith and Cristina looked at her sideways. "You've sworn off tequila _forever_?" Meredith asked her, unable to fathom why her friend would do such a thing. "Oh, is it because you drank tequila before you slept with George?"

Izzie felt her eyes widen at Meredith's question, but then it occurred to her that she was only speculating, once again, about Izzie's mysterious absence from the house two nights before. "_No_, Meredith." _It was rum…I drank rum before I slept with George_. "How many times do I have to tell you that I didn't stay with George two nights ago? I was at the house _all _night!"

Meredith rolled her eyes, gladly excepting her shot of tequila from Joe. "Whatever, Izzie," she mumbled, as she brought the shot glass to her lips.

Behind them, the bell over the door of the bar signaled that someone was walking in, and the three women turned around just in time to watch Derek and Mark walk through the door. "Great," Meredith grumbled with irritation, turning her eyes toward the floor when the two men looked their way.

Izzie could feel her face heat when she met Mark's gaze as he walked through the entryway. It was the first time they'd seen each other since their meeting in the on call room earlier that morning, and she couldn't stop the awkwardness she felt when their eyes met. She immediately broke their stare, turning around quickly so that she was facing the bar.

"When did McDreamy and McSteamy become _friends_?" Cristina asked incredulously, watching them go to a booth across the room and take a seat. "I thought they hated each other?"

Meredith shrugged and turned back toward the counter, instantly signaling to Joe that she needed another drink. "Who knows?" she said, sulking next to her. "Boys are so stupid."

Izzie downed the rest of her wine, putting the empty glass on the counter with an angry thud as she nodded in agreement with Meredith's observation. "And arrogant," she added.

"And needy."

"And pushy."

"I hate boys," Meredith said angrily.

Izzie nodded again, accepting another glass of wine from Joe. "Me too."

Cristina rolled her eyes as she listened to them complain. "Are you kidding me with this?" she asked disbelievingly, leaning against the bar and watching them with annoyance. "In case you forgot, _I'm _the one that just got dumped at my own wedding."

Izzie and Meredith looked at her ruefully, thin smiles appearing on their faces. "Sorry, Cristina," Meredith said quietly.

"Yeah, sorry."

Cristina shrugged away their apologies, picking up her fresh shot of tequila. "Whatever, boys _are_ stupid," she decided, gulping down the burning liquid.

Behind them, Alex Karev walked over to where they were sitting, his face twisting as he heard her words. "Does that mean I'm not allowed to sit here?" he asked, his hand placed on a seat next to Izzie as he feigned offense at Cristina's demeaning remark aimed at his gender.

Izzie turned toward him, her eyes brightening when she saw him. "Alex!" she stated, throwing her hands up excitedly. "No, sit, sit! You're the only one on the planet who has a penis and isn't a _complete_ idiot."

He laughed, pulling out the stool and taking a seat beside her. "Aw, thanks, Iz," he said sarcastically, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her toward his chest. "But actually, I _am_ an idiot."

Cristina rolled her eyes. "Oh Christ," she muttered. Turning to him, she shook her head. "Sorry, Evil Spawn, I can't bear to listen to your girl troubles right now," she told him, standing from her stool.

Meredith nodded. "Yeah, Alex, you know I would, but I just…I just don't want to be here right now," she concluded, sparing a glance at Derek as she stood to her feet.

He shrugged his shoulders, unfazed by their intention to abandon him. "That's okay," he remarked, leaning closer to Izzie and meeting her gaze. "Izzie will be there for Alex, right?"

"Of course!" she said playfully. "Izzie just _loves_ hearing about Alex's girl troubles."

Beside them, Meredith and Cristina exchanged an annoyed look. "Gag me," Cristina mumbled as they walked toward the door of the bar.

Izzie turned back to Alex after watching them leave. "Alright, so what's the problem?" she asked him as she picked up her glass of wine, watching him intently.

He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. "Well, it all started when Addison kissed me a couple of days after Laura Grey was born," he began

A surprised look came over her face and she held up her hands, silencing him. "Wait…wait, Dr. Montgomery kissed _you_?" Izzie asked him.

He shrugged, looking annoyed at the interruption. "Fine, we kissed _each other_. Stop getting so caught up on the details," he complained, causing her to roll her eyes.

For the next fifteen minutes, Izzie leaned in closely as she listened attentively to him telling her about his fleeting affair with Addison Montgomery, and the subsequent confusion that he felt following Ava's departure from Seattle Grace. She said almost nothing while he spoke, just laying her hand supportively on his while he complained about how confusing women could be. "Trust me, it's not that women make things complicated," she advised him when he concluded his rant, shaking her head slowly. "It's just sex. Having _sex _makes everything complicated."

He laughed, again throwing his arm around her shoulder and pulling her to his side. "Well then, it's a good thing the two of us stopped doing _that_ together," he told her lightheartedly, earning a grin from her.

They didn't move from their seats for the next hour as they talked excitedly about their upcoming residency, enjoying the buzz that they got from their over consumption of alcohol. It briefly occurred to Izzie that she was getting drunk, yet again, with a man in a bar. Albeit it was Alex, but still... _You better keep your legs closed tonight, Stevens_, she reminded herself wryly. She spared a quick glance at the table where Mark was sitting with Derek, and she found that he was watching her intently with a fierce, unreadable expression on his face. _What's his problem?_ she wondered, before turning back at Alex.

Izzie couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes when Alex soon changed the topic of conversation to Dr. Webber's pick for Chief resident. "I can't believe he chose _Callie O'Malley_ over Dr. Bailey," he said with surprise, taking a sip of his drink.

Izzie shrugged, having no desire to participate in a conversation about Callie. "I'll be right back; I have to go to the restroom," Izzie mumbled, slipping from her stool and sauntering around the bar to the bathrooms.

She walked through the swinging door of the ladies' restroom, allowing her hips to lean lazily against the sink as she stared at her reflection in the mirror of the dimly lit room. She sighed when she saw herself, annoyed that her eyes were already narrowing with drunkenness. _No more drinks for you tonight, Izzie_, she told herself sternly.

She placed her purse on the counter beside two abandoned beer bottles, opening it and searching for her lipstick. Her eyes momentarily slid back up to the mirror when she heard the door open behind her, and saw Mark's reflection as he strolled through the doorway. She gave him an irritated look as she met his eyes through the mirror. "This is the _ladies_ room," she told him, rolling her eyes when he just stared at her. "You shouldn't be in here."

He waited for the door to swing shut, and he took two steps forward so that he was standing directly behind her. "What the hell's going on with you and Karev?" he asked irritably.

A laugh escaped her lips as she pulled the tube of lipstick from her purse. After a quick application, she replaced the tube in her bag, meeting is eyes once again in the mirror. "Jealous?" she asked him. Her flippant answer only caused his scowl to deepen, so she shrugged her shoulders as she closed her purse. "Alex and I are just friends," she told him casually. "Not that it's any of your business."

He couldn't explain the relief that he felt he felt at her simple explanation, and he took another step forward, standing so close to her that he could feel the heat radiating from her body. "Did you get my present?" he asked, watching her reflection through the glass.

She stared at him intently, suddenly unable to move because she feared what would happen if their bodies touched. "I got it," she responded softly, thinking fleetingly of the shirt that was sitting at the bottom of her tote bag beside her barstool.

He bent forward until his chest was pressing against her back, and he allowed his arms to fall down so that his hands could rest against her bare thighs, right beneath the hem of her black skirt. "Good," he quietly remarked.

Her eyes fluttered closed at the feel of his rough hands against the smooth skin of her thighs, and she leaned further against the sink. "Mark…" she began, starting to tremble as his hands began to travel up legs.

"Hmmm?" he asked slowly.

"I told you…I told you this isn't happening again."

"Oh…did you?"

She nodded, swallowing hard as her skin prickled with goose bumps. "I'm not…I'm not the kind of girl who has sex in…in the bathroom of a bar," she told him, thoroughly impressed with herself for managing to get that sentence out as his hands hit the top of her thighs, running slowly over the silk of her panties.

He smiled, watching through the mirror as her face contorted with desire when his hand slipped beneath the layer of satin. "That's okay," he told her lightly.

When she felt his fingers slip inside of her, she jerked forward, inadvertently knocking the abandoned beer bottles into the sink, causing them clatter together as they landed in the porcelain bowl. She bit her lip, trying to stop a moan from escaping her mouth as his hand started to move rhythmically against her. _Is this really happening?_

She allowed her eyes to open slowly, and she met his gaze through the reflection of the mirror. Her eyes slid to the door of the restroom momentarily, and she felt a rush of adrenaline at the realization that they could be caught at any moment. Normally such a thought would have panicked her, would have caused her to put an immediate stop to such risky behavior, but the idea of Mark Sloan's fingers slowly making love to her in the bathroom of Joe's had her heart racing even faster. She met his eyes once again as she leaned further against the sink, giving him better access as she felt her desire coiling within her.

It only took a few minutes before he brought her to her release, and then she was leaning completely against the sink, panting as she felt him remove his fingers from beneath her skirt. She rested for a moment more, and then she put her hands against the cool porcelain, pushing herself up so that she was standing on her shaky knees.

Their eyes met through the glass of the mirror, and she scowled when she saw his smirk of triumph. "Stop looking so pleased with yourself," she told him grudgingly.

He laughed, and then swept her blonde curls away from her neck so that he could place a light kiss on the soft skin. "But I _am _pleased with myself, Izzie," he told her quietly, grinning again at her reflection. "And see, I can even use your first name," he told her, taking several steps backward and exiting the bathroom.

She realized that she suddenly felt giddy as the door closed behind him, and she glanced at herself, startled to see how blissful she looked in the mirror. She furrowed her brow, realizing that she hadn't looked this happy since…well, since Denny.

_Oh crap_.


	5. Chapter 5

She woke up groggily the next morning, lying on her side with one of her legs dangling over the edge of her bed. She groaned as she rolled over onto her back, jumping with surprise when she encountered a body lying next to her. _Not again_, she thought with dismay.

She sat up on her elbows and looked to her right, relief coursing through her when she saw Meredith's scrawny form curled up beside her. Letting out a small laugh, she shook her roommate's shoulder gently, watching as Meredith slowly opened her eyes.

"What?" she croaked, feeling annoyed at having been awakened from her slumber.

Izzie looked at her with amusement as she sat up. "Why are you in my bed?" she asked.

Meredith grunted tiredly, rubbing her hands over her eyes as she pulled herself into the sitting position. "Cristina kicked me out of the room last night. She said that I snore like a man, and since she now hates men, I'm not allowed to stay in the same bed with her."

Izzie looked at her strangely as she stood up, picking up her robe and wrapping it around herself. "But it's _your_ bed," she remarked, entertained by the annoyance that suddenly crossed Meredith's face.

"I didn't think about that," she admitted, throwing herself back against the mattress.

Izzie laughed again and walked to her door. "I'm going to go make coffee," she remarked, disappearing through the threshold.

She walked lazily downstairs, bumping into the kitchen door when she didn't bother to turn on the lights. "Damn it," she mumbled, flipping the switch on the wall as she rubbed her aching shoulder. She strode across the cold tiles to the counter by the sink, replacing the coffee filter and filling the machine with water before turning it on. She waited patiently while a stream of coffee began to slowly drip from the filter, and she glanced up briefly, catching her reflection in the window above the sink.

At the site of herself in the glass, her face immediately flushed at the memory of herself staring at Mark Sloan through the reflection of the bathroom mirror at Joe's. She began chewing on her lip nervously as she tried to prevent her mind from thinking about those intense minutes of the previous night, but her heart began racing in her chest at the mere thought of his hand slipping beneath her skirt.

With a deliberate sigh, she shook her head, willing the thoughts from her mind. Today was a new day, a fresh start for her to put an end to her growing infatuation with the strikingly attractive plastic surgeon. It was unhealthy for her to become involved with a man like Mark Sloan, and she was going to put a stop to it. She pasted a smile on her face at her newfound determination, convinced that she wouldn't give that man another thought.

She spun around when she heard footsteps coming into the room, and she smiled at Alex when she saw him standing in the doorway. "Good morning," she said cheerfully.

He grunted in response to her happy greeting, staggering to the counter and sitting on a stool. "I need coffee," he grumbled.

"Well, it's brewing, so be patient."

He grunted again, and she rolled her eyes as she began to pull out the ingredients to make pancakes. "If you want to be helpful, go get the newspaper from the front yard," she advised, her eyes searching the refrigerator for eggs.

"I don't want to be helpful."

She groaned in frustration, peaking out from behind the refrigerator door and glaring at him warningly. "Alex…"

"Izzie…" he mocked, causing her to glare harder. He held up his hands in surrender, watching her warily. "Fine, whatever…you women are so freaking demanding," he complained, standing from his seat and disappearing through the doorway of the kitchen.

Izzie rolled her eyes again as she pulled out two eggs and walked to the counter, the sound of the front door opening barely registering in her mind. She began humming quietly as she cracked an egg on the edge of the countertop, allowing the insides to slide from the shell into an empty mixing bowl. She heard the door shut as she picked up the other egg, and she glanced up to see him walking into the room, a smile on his face as he balanced the newspaper under his arm and a Starbucks cup and brown paper bag in his hands. She looked at him curiously, pausing in her movements. "What's that?" she asked him.

His smile only widened as he took a seat on his abandoned stool, and he casually tossed a white envelope onto the counter in front of her. "You're never going to believe this," he remarked, watching eagerly as she pulled a note from the envelope.

_Thought I'd repay you for all the cappuccinos and scones you fetched for me._

_Mark_

_So much for not giving that man another thought_, she reflected with annoyance. Izzie could feel her cheeks turn a deep crimson as she replaced the note back in the envelope, and then she look guiltily up at Alex, who was watching her expectantly. _What the hell had Mark been thinking?_

"Huh, that's weird," she said quietly, trying to keep her expression blank.

"I know," Alex laughed, opening the brown paper bag and pulling out a chocolate chip pastry. "That man's unbelievable. Does he actually think that he can lure me back to plastics by bringing me coffee and a scone?"

Izzie's eyes sharpened as she watched him inspect the pastry. "Wait…what?" she asked with confusion. _Alex thinks this is for him? Are you freaking kidding me?_

"I always knew that he'd regret that day that he decided to treat Alex Karev like crap," he remarked arrogantly, oblivious to her confusion as a satisfied smile stretched across his face.

Izzie couldn't prevent the nervous laugh that escaped her lips as she watched him take the first bite of the pastry…as she watched him take the first bite of_ her_ pastry. She didn't know why it bothered her that Alex assumed that Mark's gesture was for him, and it only irritated her more that she was _irritated_ by the fact. With a sigh, she turned back to the mixing bowl in front of her, cracking the other egg against the edge of the counter with more force than was necessary. _Wow, boys really are stupid._

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She watched his face appear as the elevator doors slid open, and she shifted her eyes to the floor. Out of the hundreds of places that he could be in this hospital right now, he just _had _to be waiting for _her _elevator. She'd slept with one freaking married man, and now karma was clearly coming back to bite her in the ass.

He smiled when he saw her, sauntering into the lift and pressing the button for the seventh floor. He didn't say a word as he stepped forward, walking over to stand next to her, his eyes staring straight ahead.

"Thanks for the coffee and scone this morning," she commented in the midst of their silence, her gaze shifting upward so that she could watch the numbers above the door light up as the elevator passed each floor.

He turned to look at her, his eyes traveling the length of her body appreciatively before rotating back to stare directly ahead of him. "You're welcome," he said lightly, feeling very satisfied with himself. "Did it win me any brownie points?"

Her lips twisted in a half smile, and she shrugged her shoulders. "It might have, if Alex hadn't found it. He thought they were for him."

The satisfied smile instantly fell from his face, and he turned to look at her with an aggravated expression. "What the hell would make Karev think that they were for _him_?"

She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest in annoyance. "Well obviously he's not going to assume that they were for me."

Mark furrowed his brow in confusion before fully understanding what she was saying. "Oh," he said slowly. "So your friends don't know about us?"

"There is no '_us_,'" she commented dryly, looking at him irritably from the corner of her eye.

An incredulous expression fell upon his face, and he stepped forward, pressing the emergency stop button on the control panel before turning around to look at her impatiently. "There is no 'us?'" he repeated disbelievingly. "Where the hell have you _been_ the last few days? How can you say that?"

"It takes a lot more than sex to constitute an 'us,' Mark," she told him sardonically.

He walked forward, standing so close to her that she was forced to look upward to meet his stare. "It's a good start, though, don't you think?"

She didn't know what she wanted to do more, kiss him or shake him, so she opted to do neither. Instead, she took a step backward to put space between them. "We're not good for each other, Mark. Trust me, I'm not your type."

He frowned, folding his arms as he studied her. "Oh really?" he asked slowly. "And why is that?"

"Well, just…just because!" she told him, throwing her arms up with exasperation. "I like romance. I like _dating_. I mean, of course I like sex, too, but I'm the kind of girl who needs a relationship, Mark. I want someone to surprise me with flowers, I want someone who'll take me home to meet his parents, I want someone-"

"My parents are dead," he interrupted.

Her mouth hung open with his admission, and her tirade was instantly forgotten. "Oh," she said quietly, her face suddenly contorting with sympathy.

"Don't look at me like that," he told her immediately, shifting his eyes away from her compassionate stare. "It was a long time ago. I'm not traumatized by it or anything."

She walked toward him, ignoring his dismissive tone as she placed her hand on his upper arm. "I'm still sorry, Mark," she said softly.

He met her eyes briefly, but feeling uncomfortable with her pity, he looked down at the floor, shrugging his shoulders indifferently. "Seriously, it's not a big deal, Izzie," he said.

When he looked back up to meet her eyes, he had a newfound mischievous expression on his face. Slowly, he brought his hand up to her shoulder, running his fingertips along the side of her body until they came to rest lightly on her hipbone. "But I can think of something that might make some of my lingering pain go away," he told her playfully.

She groaned, rolling her eyes as she stepped out of his reach. The glimpse at his vulnerable side had been so brief, Izzie almost wondered if it had even happened at all. Walking to the control panel of the elevator, she released the emergency stop button, immediately feeling the jolt of the elevator as it began to travel upward once again. "You're unbelievable," she whispered, shaking her head lightly with an amused smile playing on her lips.

He smirked, leaning sideways so that his shoulder knocked against hers teasingly. "So you've told me."

She groaned again at his reference to their night together, suddenly wishing that she'd opted to shake the man. _Lord_, _he never stops._

When the door soon slid open on the seventh floor, Alex was standing on the other side, waiting impatiently for the elevator. He straightened when he saw Mark, a smile suddenly plastered on his face as Mark began to walk forward off the lift. "Oh, thank you for the coffee and scone this morning, Dr. Sloan," he said. "It was very thoughtful of you."

Mark rolled his eyes at Alex's brown nosing. "Right," he muttered with annoyance, shaking his head.

Alex scowled as he joined Izzie on the elevator, who was smiling in amusement from having watched the brief exchange. "What's _his_ problem?" Alex asked her, his tone clearly exhibiting his irritation.

Beside him, Izzie shrugged her shoulders. "I have no idea," she said innocently, watching Mark disappear down the hallway.


	6. Chapter 6

**This is for Pooh – good luck with everything tomorrow, my friend. I know it's going to turn out fine. Seriously. I'll be thinking about you :)**

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Izzie glanced at the clock on the dashboard of her car, sighing when she saw that it was already almost midnight. She looked over at Cristina, who was staring out the window of the passenger seat. "I can't believe how long that surgery took," she remarked, commenting on the procedure that Dr. Bailey had assigned them to mere moments before they were originally supposed to be finished with their shift. "I've never seen so much blood in my life."

"Yeah," Cristina said wistfully, turning to look out the windshield as Izzie pulled into the driveway of the house. "It was awesome."

Izzie laughed as she shut off the ignition, and the two women climbed out of the car, walking up the front steps and letting themselves into the house. They strode into the foyer, but halted in shock when their eyes landed on Meredith, who was seated in the living room.

She sat silently on the couch, surrounded by an abundance of vases that were scattered around the room. Each vase held a unique bouquet of flowers, filling the otherwise drab room with color and a sweet floral scent. When she saw them walk in, she glared at them with irritation.

"Jesus Christ, Mer," Cristina muttered, her mouth falling open in disgust. "It looks like a florist vomited all over your living room."

"I'm aware of that," she stated dryly, her eyes turning to look fiercely at Izzie.

Izzie's eyes went wide at Meredith's annoyed stare, and she instinctively took a step backward. "Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked. "I didn't do this."

Meredith rolled her eyes, standing to her feet and walking quickly across the room. "They're for you," she told her wryly.

Izzie faltered, surprised by the announcement. "For me?" she whispered disbelievingly. She slowly walked toward the nearest vase, picking it up and inhaling the pleasant scent of the pale pink roses. "All of these are for me?" she asked again, her eyes sweeping across the room excitedly.

Meredith nodded, pointing to the card that was pinned to the top of a bouquet of orchids on the coffee table. "See for yourself."

Izzie walked over to the table, noticing that her name was, in fact, scrawled on the outside of the tiny white envelope. With a smile on her face, she carefully tore open the envelope, pulling out a little card.

_You said you wanted flowers._

_I wasn't sure what you liked, so I got one of each…_

_See, I can do romance._

Her smile widened as she placed the card back in the envelope and she turned around to face her friends. They stared at her, their foreheads furrowed as they waited for her response. "Well, who're they from?" Meredith asked impatiently when she didn't immediately explain.

Izzie stared at her blankly, unsure what to say. A part of her was bursting with desire to tell her friends that they were from Mark, to share the details of their encounters over the last few days. Well, maybe not _all _the details, but perhaps a carefully censored, PG-13 version. She knew, though, that she would likely be met with their weird, judgey scowls. After all, these were the newfound man-haters who, just the day before, had tried to convince her to become a lesbian with them.

With a shrug of her shoulders, she tossed the card carelessly onto the coffee table and walked back over to stand beside them. "I have no idea," she told them innocently.

A groan of frustration left Meredith's mouth, and she put her hands on her hips. "Izzie! Stop with the lying! Is it George? Are you having an affair with George?" she asked her.

"No, Meredith, for the last time! I'm _not_ having an affair with George!" She folded her arms angrily across her chest as she stared defiantly at her friends, daring them to challenge her further.

"Well then who're they from, Izzie? There's no way that you don't know," Cristina stated.

Izzie pursed her lips, blurting out the first thing that came to her mind. "Hank! They're from Hank," she told them, silently cursing herself for sounding overenthusiastic. "You remember him. We were dating when we started our internship."

"Hank?" Meredith asked disbelievingly, cocking an eyebrow. "They're from the _hockey_ player?"

"Yeah," Izzie confirmed, boldly meeting their dubious faces.

"You still _talk_ to him?" Cristina questioned suspiciously.

Izzie nodded, sending up a silent prayer that she didn't look as guilty as she felt. "Yeah, do you have a _problem_ with that?" she asked, resting her hands against her hips.

An amused smile spread over Cristina's face as she watched Izzie's attempt to act intimidating. "Nope, no problem," she said, laughing as she held up her hands in mock-surrender. "I'm going upstairs to bed," she said. "I feel like I'm trapped in a fucking botanical garden right now," she grumbled, turning to leave the living room.

When Cristina was out of site, Meredith turned back to Izzie, her hands on her hips as she stared at her skeptically. "You know that we don't believe you, right?" she asked.

Izzie shrugged, looking at the floor momentarily before bravely meeting her eyes. "Well, I don't care _what_ you believe."

Meredith sighed. "Look Izzie, if you're having an affair with George, you need to put a stop to it. Trust me, I know about these things. Sleeping with a married man will never turn out well in the end."

Izzie nodded her head, suddenly feeling a twinge of sympathy for her friend. "I know that, Meredith," she said quietly. "But I swear to you, I'm not sleeping with George." _At least not anymore._

Meredith pursed her lips, her face still suspicious, but she gave Izzie a small nod. "Okay," she relented warily. "I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night," Izzie said, watching as Meredith climbed up the stairs to the second floor. When she was gone, Izzie turned back to the room, her eyes drinking in every vase of flowers while her smile grew. This was certainly something that she would never have expected from Mark Sloan. She had always viewed him as romantically challenged, but she now admitted to herself that she was obviously mistaken.

With a wistful sigh, she flipped off the light in the living room and turned around to head upstairs. She got ready for bed quickly, sighing with contentment when her body landed against the cool sheets. Feeling thoroughly exhausted, she let her eyes flutter shut as she curled onto her side, eager to fall into a deep sleep.

Her mind, however, didn't cooperate as it raced with thoughts of Mark, and she soon found herself tossing and turning. Initially, she was merely picturing the flowers that were sitting in the living room, but that soon led to her thoughts of him pressing her against the door of the on call room, of his hands finding their way beneath her skirt in the bathroom of Joe's, and of course, of their erotic night together in his hotel room.

She groaned when she felt the familiar ache between her legs, and she closed her knees tightly, trying to suppress her desire. She couldn't let this happen; she couldn't let her mind become consumed with Mark Sloan. No matter how many romantic gestures he made, it was all being done to lure her back to his bed. He _was_ a manwhore, after all.

She turned over once again, her eyes cracking open just enough to see that it was already two in the morning. With a sigh, she sat up, throwing her legs over the edge of her bed. There was only one way to solve this problem, and there was no time like the present.

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He groaned when he heard an incessant knocking on the door of his hotel room. Lazily, he picked up a pillow, bringing it up to cover his face in the hope that it would muffle the obnoxious noise. It didn't help, though, particularly because the knocking only grew louder with each passing second.

He gritted his teeth in annoyance as he threw the sheets from his body, standing up off the bed. He grabbed a robe from the bathroom to cover his nudity before walking to the door, his irritation only growing with each knock.

The second he swung the door open, she stormed into his room, not waiting for an invitation. "I got your flowers," Izzie told him impatiently. "You've got to stop doing things like that."

He lifted an eyebrow as he shut the door behind her. "You're welcome," he said sarcastically, rubbing a hand tiredly over his face.

She ignored him, staring at him fixedly as she continued with her rant. "You can't keep doing these thoughtful things, Mark, because you're getting into my head. You're getting into my head, and now I can't get you out. I feel like your smothering me, and I can't do _anything_ without thinking about you. I'm not the kind of girl who can have casual sex and not get attached. It's dangerous, and can't risk you breaking my heart because…well, because I know you will."

He watched her silently, trying to ignore the anxious ache that had grown stronger in the pit of his stomach with each passing word. With a quiet sigh, he ran his hand through his hair. "If that's the way you want it, fine," he complied, his expression carefully blank.

Izzie's mouth fell open slightly, and she couldn't help but feel a little upset that he had given in so easily. "Oh…well, okay then…good," she mumbled, trying to mask her disappointment. _This is what you wanted, Izzie_, she reminded herself. She stood awkwardly for a moment, fidgeting with her fingers as silence engulfed the room. Finally she sighed. "Well, goodnight then," she said, beginning to walk forward toward the door.

She'd only taken two steps when his arm shot out, and she inhaled sharply as he grabbed her around the waist when she tried to pass him, pulling her toward his body. Their eyes met through the darkness, and Izzie became breathless when she recognized the lustful expression.

He didn't dare move, exerting every ounce of self-control that he had as he watched her intently. If she truly didn't want this, he was prepared to let her go. It would be torturous, of course, but it was her decision in the end.

Izzie swallowed hard as her eyes fell to his lips, and she couldn't help but feel annoyed as that pesky burning sensation between her legs returned with a vengeance. She wanted to say no to him, to tell him to let her go. Her mind was _screaming _at her to turn around and flee the scene, yet her body refused to budge. If anything, she seemed to squirm a bit so that she could mold her curves to better fit with his.

Her resolve suddenly flying out the window, she leaned upward and crushed her lips against his. The kiss was nearly bruising with intensity, and the instant their mouths touched, Izzie felt a rush of adrenaline, like an addict experiencing her first high of the day. A moan of ecstasy bubbled from her throat, and she threw her weight against him, propelling him into the door behind them.

Izzie gasped as his lips kissed their way down to the bottom of her neck, sucking the sensitive skin lightly. "This is _not_ how I expected this to go," she mumbled breathlessly, her knees suddenly weakening as his hand rose up beneath her shirt, tracing the line of her spine.

Sensing her unsteadiness, his other arm wrapped around her, hoisting her up so that she could wrap her legs around his waist. "Well, life doesn't always go according to plan," he muttered in response as he began walking toward the bed.

_No kidding._


	7. Chapter 7

Izzie lounged comfortably on her side, one leg resting against the cool sheets and the other thrown lazily across Mark's hips as she snuggled against him. He was lying on his back with one hand propped behind his head, the other gently stroking the golden locks that had fallen across his bare arm.

She sighed contently, enjoying the feel of his warm, manly figure beside her as she allowed her fingers to caress the smooth ridges of chest. Her movements faltered when she encountered the rise of scar tissue at the base of his shoulder, and she picked her head up, shifting her eyes to look at the old blemish. "What's this?" she asked quietly, her fingertip running repeatedly back and forth over the raised skin.

"It's a scar," he told her simply, his eyes remaining closed.

She rolled her eyes, smacking his shoulder lightly. "Well I _know _that," she told him irritably. "How'd you get it?"

He opened his eyelids, turning his head slightly so that he could meet her gaze. "Oh, is this a part of the whole _relationship_ thing?" he questioned, his expression filled with amusement.

She narrowed her eyes at his comment, pouting as she turned away so that she wouldn't have to look at him. "Just forget it," she said grudgingly.

He bit his bottom lip, regretting his attempt to tease her. _Stop being an ass_, he told himself. "When I was thirteen, Derek and I got into a fight because he caught me hanging out with his sister, Nancy," he told her, his hand dropping down to caress her slender shoulder. "I was kind of flippant about the whole thing, and I said something about thinking his sister was hot, and that anyone with half a brain would go for it. He got pissed and threw a beer bottle at me; it broke against my shoulder."

Izzie's eyes widened, and her annoyance toward him was instantly forgotten. "Oh," she said, feeling a twinge of guilt for finding humor in the fact that Mark's manwhorish ways had started so early. "That's terrible."

Mark shrugged, dismissing her futile attempt at sympathy. "It's alright. Nancy cleaned me up, and then we got to second base in her parent's bathroom," he revealed with a devilish grin.

Izzie rolled her eyes at his naughty expression. "Apparently your thing for feeling women up in bathrooms started at a young age," she said wryly, causing him to laugh and pull her closer to his chest as he continued his lazy strokes, his fingers now moving slowly across her collarbone. She sighed wistfully at his touch, her eyes fluttering shut. "I can't believe you got to second base with McBitchy," she said idly.

He glanced down at her strangely as she used the nickname, but he decided not to comment. "Oh please, that's when I was only thirteen. I got much further with Nancy-pants when I got older," he said smugly.

Izzie's eyes opened slowly as her annoyance quickly returned. "Do you think you could refrain from talking about your past sexual encounters while I'm lying naked in your bed?"

He smirked, his hand slipping further down to caress her breast. "Jealous, Iz?"

She scoffed at his suggestion. "No."

He chucked softly, finding her sulky tone surprisingly charming. "Oh, I think _are_ jealous."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, I might be a _little_ jealous. But how would you like it if I started talking about how Alex Karev used to take me in the on call room during-"

"Alright," Mark said immediately, stopping her rant. "You know what? Let's just…let's just drop the whole 'past lovers discussion.'"

She smiled, feeling somewhat triumphant. "Fine, if that's what you want," she said lightly, laying her head back against his chest. They remained quiet for several moments, simply enjoying the feel of lying together on the bed.

Finally, though, Izzie decided she couldn't take the silence. "So you and Derek have obviously been friends for a long time," she observed softly, trying to subtly dig for personal information about the often baffling Mark Sloan.

His hand stilled against her skin and he momentarily refrained from commenting, causing Izzie to think that perhaps she should've left the subject alone.

Eventually he began caressing her once again, his hand moving slowly down the line of her ribs and resting gently against her slightly protruding hipbone. Izzie sighed, relaxing against his body. "Yeah, we have been," he answered eventually, the tone of his voice indicating it wasn't a subject he wanted to discuss.

She pursed her lips together, silently commanding herself to drop the topic of Derek and Mark's friendship. It was obviously a sore subject with him, and she knew that, despite the fact that they were close in a certain sense of the word, they didn't actually know each other _that_ well. Maybe it wasn't her place to be asking him personal questions.

On the other hand, she couldn't help but feel that her incredibly uninhibited behavior in between the sheets had earned her the right to ask him whatever she wanted. Her curiosity taking over, she angled her head up so that she could look at him. "Do you regret sleeping with your best friend's wife?" she asked, her interest heightened because of her similar situation with George.

Again, he initially remained wordless, a wary sigh escaping his lips. Izzie grew nervous as the silence stretched on, and she mentally cursed her inability to keep her big mouth shut.

"I don't regret it," he suddenly said, surprising her as he interrupted her thoughts. "I hate that it hurt my friendship with Derek, but we're trying to work out our differences. I try not to regret my decisions, though, because everything I've ever done has led me to where I am now. If Derek hadn't caught me in bed with Addison, he never would have left New York, which means Addison never would have left New York and, by default, neither would I."

Izzie met his eyes, surprised by the sincerity of his answer. "And you're happy here? You're glad you came to Seattle?"

He smiled at her, tilting his head to the side. "I'm definitely learning the perks of the city," he said mischievously, his hand moving from her hipbone to slip between her legs.

She let out a breath as she felt the tips of his finger gently begin to tease her, and she quickly clamped her thighs closed around him, easily still his hand. She sighed, squirming away from his body. "I can't. I really need to get home," she told him regretfully, trying to convince herself just as much as she was trying to convince him.

He frowned, watching her sit up on the bed nearly a foot away from him. "Iz, just stay a little longer. Come on, just give me ten minutes," he told her with a grin, his eyebrows raised suggestively.

"Ten minutes? Wow, Mark, that's romantic."

He laughed at her sarcasm, propping himself on his elbows and watching intently as she stood up and walked across the room, unconcerned with her nudity. "I just don't understand why you're in such a rush."

She picked up her panties from the floor, slipping them on before turning back around to face Mark. "I have to get home before my roommates wake up for work," she told him.

He sighed, lying back against the pillows as he continued to watch her get dressed. "I feel so used," he told her playfully, causing her groan. He ignored her, continuing with his attempts. "Come on, Iz, it's the middle of the night. Stay until morning. We'll order breakfast, read the newspaper together…you know, be domestic; it'll be _romantic_," he said lightheartedly.

She turned towards him, sighing as she tilted her head to the side. "I'm sorry, I can't."

He stared at her for several moments, neither of them moving. Eventually he grinned at her, bringing his arms up behind his head. "Fine, but you better make it up to me tomorrow night."

She smiled back at him, pulling her shirt over her head as she walked toward the bed, placing her hands on either side of his body. "You can count on it," she whispered, pressing her lips firmly against his before straightening up and striding to the door, giving him one last glance before leaving the hotel room.

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As she quietly opened the front door of the house and slipped into the foyer, Izzie had flashbacks of being high school, sneaking back into her mother's trailer past curfew, deathly afraid that she would be caught. She giggled at the idea, suddenly having an absurd mental image of Meredith waiting for her at the top of the stairs, scolding her for being late.

Rolling her eyes at her own ridiculous thoughts, she closed the door behind her, dropping her purse by the front door and walking to the stairs. She only made it up two steps when she heard the front door open, and she spun around, startled to see Alex standing by the front door.

He looked at her strangely for a moment, clearly surprised to see her standing on the staircase. He soon recovered from his shock, though, and a smirk broke out on his face. "Late night, Iz?" he asked her smugly.

She swallowed hard, trying to keep the guilty look off of her face as she raised her chin defiantly. "Apparently no later than yours."

He cocked an eyebrow at her defensive tone, walking toward the staircase and climbing up to her level. When he was standing beside her, his face just inches from hers, he grinned. "I was on call," he told her happily. "Where were you?"

Her mouth fell open, and she prayed for a lie would roll off her tongue, but her mind went blank, leaving her standing foolishly before him. Izzie could feel her face redden as the silence stretched on. "I was with Mark," she suddenly blurted out, her already crimson cheeks coloring further.

The smile fell from Alex's face, and he stared at her with surprise. "You were with Mark? As in, Mark _Sloan_?"

Her eyes narrowed as she observed his incredulous expression, and she suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to defend Mark. "Yes, Mark _Sloan_. Do you have a problem with that?" she asked bitingly.

"Uh, yeah I do. The guy's an ass, Izzie; why would you want to be with someone like him?"

She huffed, clearly irritated by his question. "I _like_ him Alex. He's a nice guy."

Alex shook his head disbelievingly, suddenly feeling sorry for Izzie as he realized that she'd been sucked in by Mark Sloan's charm. "You might just be spreading your legs for him now, Iz, but before long, he's going to have you picking up his dry cleaning and getting him coffee for him like you're some kind of slave," he told her. "Oh, wait, he already does that."

"He's a lot different when you get to know him, Alex! He's a better man than everyone thinks."

Alex laughed. "Oh please, Izzie. I know you think your life's purpose is to save every man from himself, but not every man is worth saving."

She pursed her lips angrily, glancing up the stairs as she heard the door to Meredith's room open and the patter of feet walking down the hall. As she looked back at the man before her, she suddenly wished that she had never wasted even a second of her life on Alex Karev. "Well, you're certainly right about that," she whispered irritably.

She then turned away from him, marching up the stairs angrily, not even bothering to speak to a very confused Cristina as she stormed to her bedroom and slammed her door behind her.

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**This will be the last update of Addicted until at least the end of next week. I'm going out of town :) But I'll definitely pick it up right where I left off when I return. -Lilly**


	8. Chapter 8

Izzie had just finished her shift and was on her way to meet her friends at the Emerald City Bar when she spotted Mark going through the doorway of the stairwell. She moved quickly to follow his trail, glancing around with paranoia to make sure that no one noticed her slip through the door behind him.

"Mark!"

He paused mid-stride, turning to look at her when she called his name. "Well, hello, Dr. Stevens," he said with a grin, quickly descending the stairs so that he could stand in front of her. He placed a soft kiss on her lips, and then let his hand trail up the length of her arm. "I'm about to go check on my last patient; want to meet in my hotel room in about an hour?"

Her lips twisted regretfully. "Actually I'm about to meet up with my friends at Joe's."

"Oh," he said, thinking for a minute before a smile appeared on his face. "Well you want to meet in the _bathroom of Joe's_ in about an hour?"

She glared at him. "Mark, I'm trying to have a conversation with you. Do you think you could be serious for a minute?"

"I _am_ being serious."

Izzie rolled her eyes, ignoring his comment. "Alex knows."

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Knows what?"

"He knows…" She trailed off, looking suspiciously around the stairwell before bringing her voice to a whisper. "He knows that I was with you last night."

"So, what?"

"So…it's only going to be a matter of time before people start finding out about us. This is going to be a disaster."

Mark frowned. "A disaster, huh?"

"Yes, a _disaster_. You weren't here when people found out about Meredith and Derek. She was the talk of the hospital, Mark, and I know what that's like. I know what it's like to walk into a room and have everyone whispering behind my back. After Denny di-" She paused, seemingly rethinking her words. "I just don't want to be the topic of Seattle Grace gossip."

Mark nodded his head slowly. "So, you're saying that you want to end this?"

She paused. _Is that what I'm saying?_ "Um, well maybe that would be for the best."

He stared at her, watching with interest as she silently battled with herself. He eventually took a step forward, his hand coming up to stroke her cheek. "Like I said last night, if that's the way you want it."

She swallowed hard. "Okay, well it is. Thanks for being so…so understanding."

He nodded, smirking in a way that suddenly made her nervous. "Anytime," he told her casually as he turned away, climbing up the staircase as she watched after him.

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When Izzie walked into Joe's, she frowned at the scene in front of her. Meredith and Cristina were already obviously inebriated, singing obnoxiously off tune with Michael Jackson as Heartbreak Hotel played through the speakers behind the bar. Next to them, Alex was laughing as he watched their performance, and he leaned across the counter, ordering another round of drinks.

Izzie sighed, shrugging off her light jacket as she walked to an empty seat beside them. As she approached, Meredith's slanted eyes brightened, and she threw up an arm, suddenly belting out lyrics in Izzie's direction. "Welcome to Heartbreak hotel…So this is Heartbreak hotel!"

Izzie cringed as several patrons looked their way with amusement. "You sound horrible, Mer," she told her, taking a seat beside them and ordering a beer from Joe. "What's wrong with you?"

Meredith shoulders slumped, and she suddenly began to sulk in her seat. "McSlutty's peeing on my territory."

Izzie's eyes narrowed in confusion. "Um, okay," she said, taking a sip of her beer. "I'm not really sure what that means."

Meredith scoffed. "My McSlutty McSister is at _my _McHospital flirting with _my _McDreamy," Meredith slurred, taking another sip of her drink.

"Molly's flirting with Derek?"

"Barbie, keep up, here," Cristina interjected, taking a handful of pretzels and shoving them in her mouth. "Lexie…Derek's flirting with Lexie Grey. She's a new intern, and Meredith saw him talking to her at the hospital today."

Meredith scowled. "That Mc_Slut_."

Izzie raised her eyebrows at the venomous tone in Meredith's voice. "Oh. I'm sorry, Mer."

Meredith suddenly straightened her shoulders, a grin appearing on her face. "It's okay, because I'm going to find a _new_ guy tonight," she said happily, surveying the bar.

Izzie sighed, shaking her head lightly. "Meredith, I don't think that's going to make you feel any better."

"Leave her alone," Alex interrupted, speaking up for the first time since Izzie walked in. "Sleeping with inappropriate men is her thing. You can understand that, can't you, Iz?"

Izzie scowled at him, suddenly having the urge to throw her mug of beer into his face. She was saved from her own hostility, though, when Meredith squealed beside her. Izzie turned her way, following her friend's gaze to the door, and a small huff escaped her mouth when she saw _Mark_ standing in the doorway, smiling smugly at their group before walking to a corner booth.

"McSteamy," Meredith garbled with excitement, her eyes brightening as she watched him sitting alone in the corner. "He's _perfect_."

Izzie felt a sudden flutter of panic in her chest. "Mer, that's a bad idea."

Cristina shook her head, washing down another mouthful of pretzels with a tequila shot. "I think it's an _excellent_ idea. He's hot."

"But…but he used to be Derek's best friend!" Izzie stuttered, desperate for an excuse that would keep Meredith from hitting on Mark.

Meredith grinned. "Exactly," she said, slipping off of her barstool and sauntering over to Mark's table.

Izzie watched in horror as Meredith slipped in the booth beside Mark, scooting so close to him that her thigh was pressed into his. She couldn't tell what Meredith was saying, but she watched with dismay as her intoxicated roommate leaned into him, her hand finding a place under the table as she said something that made him raise his eyebrows with surprise.

Alex smirked as he watched Izzie's face. "Don't worry, Iz," he said, popping a nut into his mouth as she turned to look at him. "I'm sure that Derek is the_ last _thing that Mark will be thinking about while he's screwing Meredith."

Izzie scoffed, pressing her lips together tightly as she forced herself not to turn around again. "Joe," she called, waiting impatiently for the bartender to work his way over to her. "I'm going to need something stronger than a beer."

As she waited for Joe to mix her a drink, she bit her lip lightly, trying to keep the tears at bay. She was determined not to think about it, not to picture Mark and Meredith…together.

As Joe placed a shockingly blue cocktail in front of her, proudly introducing her to the aptly named walk-me-down, Cristina grinned as she observed Meredith and Mark from the corner of her eye. "_Damn_, she works fast," she pronounced, shaking her head in wonderment as she turned back to the bar.

With a feeling of trepidation, Izzie angled her head to the side, her eyes finding her targets just in time for her to spot them walking toward the exit. Meredith was leaning heavily into Mark, whose arm was around her waist, and he looked up quickly, his gaze meeting Izzie's. He grinned at her, wiggling his eyebrows, and then quickly exited the bar.

Izzie turned back to the counter, lifting her drink and swallowing the sweet liquid as her chest began to suddenly burn with anger and jealousy.

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From inside Meredith's bedroom, Mark smirked as he heard a door slam down the hallway. _Izzie's home_, he thought with amusement, glancing down at the woman sleeping in his arms.

He sighed, easing her from his body and laying her down so that she was slumbering on the top of the comforter. He stood up, then, grinning down at her as he watched her mouth hang slightly open, her breath coming out heavily as she slept, oblivious to the world.

_She's going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow_, he thought, his mind briefly flashing back over the previous hour.

As soon as they had walked into the foyer, Meredith had thrown herself at him, her arms flying around his neck as she'd crushed her lips against his. She'd frowned when he'd pushed her away. "Sorry, Meredith, this isn't going to be _that _kind of dirty mistress meeting."

She'd sulked. "Well then why the hell did you come home with me?"

"To make sure that you didn't do anything stupid," he'd told her. "Trust me, you'd regret it in the morning."

She shook her head adamantly at him. "I will _not_." She'd grabbed his hand, tugging him with surprising strength to the staircase.

"Meredith, I'm not having sex with you. Think about what that would do to Derek."

"I _am_ thinking about what that would do to Derek," she'd replied with a devilish twinkle in her eyes.

He'd sighed, shaking his head. "No, I don't think you are."

Meredith scowled at him. "I _am_," she'd insisted, sitting down a stair with a thud. She'd crossed her arms irritably over her chest. "If Derek can sleep with my _sister_, then I can sleep with his friend."

Mark had frowned, thinking that didn't sound very much like the Derek Shepherd that he knew. "Derek slept with your sister?"

Meredith's scowl had immediately deepened. "Well, he was _talking_ to her. He looked like he might sleep with her _eventually_."

Mark had tried to suppress his grin. "Oh, well, okay then," he'd replied, his voice clearly amused as he took a seat next to her.

On her place on the staircase, Meredith had pouted. "You just don't understand. You don't know what it's like to want to make it work with someone, but to feel completely inadequate when it comes to being in a relationship."

Now, as Mark walked to the end of the bed and slipped off Meredith's shoes, he frowned, thinking about just how wrong she was. He knew _exactly _how that felt.

With one last glance at his fellow dirty mistress, he walked to the door and let himself out of the room. He moved toward the staircase, glancing at the various doors and wondering which room Izzie Stevens slept in. Well, there was only one way to find out.

With determination, he strode to the end out the hallway, noticing a bit of light peaking out from the crack under a doorway. Hoping that he wasn't about to walk in on Karev having a late-night romp with some random bar whore, he hesitantly turned the knob.

He smiled triumphantly when he pushed open the door and found Izzie standing by her dresser, struggling to get her shirt over her head. "Need some help?" he offered, striding into the room.

She froze when she heard his voice, knowing instantly who he was despite the fact that the shirt covering her face was obstructing her vision. "No," she spat out, tugging harder in an effort to get the material over her head. As she wobbled drunkenly, she suddenly wished that she had refused that last walk-me-down.

He laughed as he watched her sway, walking further into the room as he observed with interest where Izzie slept night after night, and with jealously, he couldn't help but wonder how many men she'd brought into that bed. When he was standing in front of her, he placed his hands on her shoulder, stilling her before he easily pulled the shirt from her body and tossed it on her bed.

She scowled at him. "I think you're in the wrong room. Meredith's at the end of the hall."

"I know; that's where I came from."

She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. "Well then why are you in _here_?"

He shrugged, sitting on her bed. "I guess I just wanted to see you."

Izzie huffed. "If you think I'm going to sleep with you after you fucked _Meredith_, well you're-"

"I didn't _fuck_ Meredith," he interrupted. "I wouldn't do that to Derek. Besides, I have a little…_thing_…for her best friend."

Izzie was silent as she studied him, but she looked at him incredulously when the words crossed his lips. "You have a crush on _Cristina?_" she cried, throwing her arms up disbelievingly.

Mark sighed with frustration. "No, Izzie. _You!_ I have a thing for _you_."

Her expression instantly changed, and she sat down next to him on the bed. "Really?" She momentarily thought of her conviction to end their weird _relationship_, but her gaiety over his admission had her pushing that thought to the back of her mind.

He laughed, shaking his head lightly at her bewilderment. "Well, I don't typically _beg_ women to stay with me until morning, so yeah, I guess I do," he admitted.

She smiled, swinging her leg over his lap so that she was straddling him. Her smile widened as she pushed him back against her bed, her hair falling over her shoulders on either side of his face as she looked down at him. "You have a crush on me," she teased giddily.

He rolled his eyes. "Try not to spread that around," he told her.

She nodded. "Don't worry; it'll be our little secret," she replied before placing her lips over his. As he tried to slip his tongue into her mouth, she suddenly pulled back. "You better be out of here before everyone wakes up," she told him, looking at him seriously.

He merely grinned at her, ignoring her suggestion as he pulled her mouth back to his.


	9. Chapter 9

**So, I promised Gigi that I would have this up for her birthday YESTERDAY, but I'm a bad person and I got distracted by life (ahem…BLAIR AND WHITNEY!) But regardless, this chapter is in honor of my new old-lady friend! Happy belated birthday, Gig!**

**Also, there's a little treat in here for CarsonFiles, as well :-)**

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Izzie's eyes opened slowly as her brain struggled into consciousness, and she jolted slightly, taken aback when she found Mark's face inches from hers, his eyes trained on her as a slow smile stretched across his features. "Good morning."

She stared at him with confusion as her hazy memory wrestled to remember how she'd gotten to Mark's hotel the night before. She had started out at Joe's, and then Mark had left with…Meredith? _Wait_ _a minute…if Mark and Meredith went home together, why did I end up at the Archfield?_

Suddenly her eyes widened, and she sat up quickly as she realized that they weren't in his hotel. They had fallen asleep in her bed...in her bedroom…in her house. In _Meredith's_ house.

"Oh my god, you have to leave!"

As she blurted out the words, his eyes narrowed and he pulled away from her slightly. "Well, that's not exactly the warm, fuzzy greeting I was hoping to wake up to."

Her features were remorseful as she slipped out of bed, walking quickly across the room and cloaking her nudity with her robe. "I'm sorry, but you have to get out of here before my roommates wake up."

Mark made no effort to move, remaining in his spot on the bed as he stared at her with a raised brow. "Actually, your roommates are already up."

Izzie froze, her body stilling as she stared at him with wide eyes. "_What?_"

A grin broke out on his face as he watched the panicked expression cross her features. "I heard them banging around a few minutes ago. I think it was Yang and Grey, and I'm _pretty_ sure that one of them was paying the price for last night's festivities in the hallway bathroom."

Izzie closed her eyes, struggling to remain calm against the growing need to scream at him for acting so unconcerned with the whole situation. "Okay, well how are we going to get you out of here without anyone seeing you?"

Mark sighed contentedly, pulling her dark pink comforter over his chest as he settled against a pillow. "Well, to be quite honest, I'm not ready to get up yet."

Izzie fumed at his smug expression, quickly walking to the bed and grabbing his hand. She tugged ferociously, leaning her weight back as she struggled to pull him from the mattress. He merely laughed at her efforts, easily resisting her attempts, and her scowl deepened. "Mark Sloan, I swear to god-"

Her comment was cut short when he yanked on her hand, and she yelped as his strength propelled her body down so that she fell on top of him.

He smirked at her as she met his eyes. "Nope, I'm definitely not ready to get out of bed," he told her, his hand rising to her shoulders and pushing away the material of her robe.

Izzie fought the need to let her body completely melt into his as his lips began to suck at the skin on her shoulder. "Mark, _seriously_…"

"Mmmm, you _taste_ amazing."

She shook her head adamantly, swallowing hard as chill bumps laced her skin. "If my roommates find you here…"

"And you _smell_ delectable," he whispered, his fingertips pushing the robe down her body as he traced the length of her spine. "Like perfume and sex."

Her body shuddered at his words, and she closed her eyes as his hands gripped her hips, pulling her body to him as he rolled her onto her back. She took in a deep breath, determined to disregard her growing desire. "We have to get up. You have to leave…"

He smiled, ignoring her words as he allowed his hands to fall between her legs. "And you _feel_ incredible."

Izzie gasped as his fingers disappeared inside of her, and she dropped her head back against the pillow. "Okay," she whispered. "You win."

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Izzie couldn't move; she literally couldn't move an _inch_. Part of the reason was because after many minutes of mind-blowing pleasure, she'd fallen back against the sheets, completely sated as exhaustion overtook her body. On the other hand, she realized that she also couldn't move because immediately following one on the most staggering orgasms of her life, two hundred pounds of pure muscle had collapsed on top of her.

"I can't really breathe right now," she muttered, her eyes fluttering open to look at him.

His head remained between her breasts, and he sighed contentedly. "I know; that was amazing."

Izzie rolled her eyes as a small giggle fell from her lips. "No, I mean I can't breathe because you're currently crushing my lungs."

He grunted. "I'm sorry, but I can't move."

"Maaaark," she whined, pushing against his shoulders as she laughed. "I have to get ready for work, and _you_ have to leave."

A frown crossed his features, and he slowly brought his elbows up, pulling his upper body off of hers so that he could look her in the eye. "Are you _seriously_ back to that again?"

Izzie sighed as the smile fell from her face, and she remained silent, shifting her gaze away from him shamefully.

He shook his head slowly with disappointment, but climbed off her body, standing up beside the bed. "You know Iz, I hope that one day you'll learn to think for yourself."

Her eyes flashed with anger at his words, and she looked up sharply. "_Excuse me_?"

"You heard me. I think you'll be a lot happier when you stop worrying so much about what other people think."

She huffed irritably as she slipped off the bed, taking a few steps so that she was standing directly in front of him, staring at him confrontationally. "I do _not_ let other people control what I think."

He lifted his eyebrows skeptically as he pulled on the clothes that he'd been wearing the night before. "If you say so," he muttered sarcastically.

She groaned from frustration, walking to her dresser and pulling out a bra and panties. "You know what? I don't _care _what you think about me."

He smirked at her as she quickly dressed, covering her underwear with jeans and a royal blue t-shirt; a t-shirt that Mark couldn't help but notice hugged her curves beautifully. "Of course you care what I think," he tossed out casually. "You care what _everyone_ thinks."

Her eyes widened angrily. "I do _not_!"

He smirked again as he pushed his feet into his shoes. "Whatever, Iz. It doesn't really matter."

"It _does_ matter. I do _not_ care about what other people think of me."

He shrugged his shoulders indifferently. "Well then you won't _care_ that I think you're in denial about your inability to stand up for yourself."

She pursed her lips, struggling to breathe through her anger. They both remained wordless for several moments, unwilling to speak further as they stared challengingly into one another's eyes. Finally, Izzie straightened her shoulders, walking several steps to stand in front of him. She roughly took his hand into hers, pulling on his arm as she walked to the door of her bedroom and yanked it open. "I do _not_ care about what other people think of me," she repeated furiously, tugging on his arm as they walked down the hallway toward the staircase.

He lifted an eyebrow at the rapid change of events. "Izzie, what're you doing?"

"I'm proving to you that I don't care about other people's opinions."

He sighed as they walked down the stairs. "You don't have to do this. I was just-"

"Shut up."

He closed his mouth instantly, delightfully surprised by her feisty response. He continued to place one foot in front of the other, allowing her to drag him to the first floor. When they reached the bottom of the steps, they turned the corner, and she pulled him toward the open doorway of the kitchen.

Izzie hauled him through the doorway, letting go of his hand when they crossed the threshold. She raised her chin defiantly, ignoring Meredith and Cristina's wide, shocked stares as they gaped at them. "Good morning," Izzie greeted, trying to sound casual as she stared down at them.

Meredith and Cristina exchanged glances. "Morning," Meredith eventually said, bringing her surprised eyes back to meet Izzie's.

Izzie straightened her shoulders proudly, refusing to look away from their stares. "Mark and I are sleeping together. We're having sex; lots and lots of _great_ sex, and I don't care what you think."

Meredith and Cristina turned to look at each other again, seeming to communicate wordlessly. Izzie fidgeted nervously as she waited for their responses, bracing herself against the inevitable onslaught of ridicule and man-hate. Finally they both turned back to look at Izzie, amused grins on their faces. "Good for you, Barbie," Cristina said. "You need to get some good action. You're a lot more tolerable when you're getting laid."

Meredith nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you've been kind of dark and twisty for the last few weeks, and let's be honest here; there's only room for one dark and twisty person in this house, and she is me."

"Oh," Izzie said, bewildered by their reaction. "Well, okay then. Um…good, so now you know. Hopefully you can stop with your incessant questions and your ridiculous theories about George and me."

Izzie walked dazedly over to the counter to pour cups coffee for Mark and herself, while Mark sat at the breakfast table between Meredith and an empty seat. "So, carry on with whatever you two were doing before Izzie and I came in. Don't let me interrupt your morning routine."

"Well, actually we were trying to pick out a new guy for Meredith since you turned her down last night."

Meredith grinned sheepishly, turning to look at Izzie by the coffee maker. "Yeah, sorry about that, by the way."

Izzie laughed and shrugged her shoulders, picking up the coffee pot and pouring the steaming liquid into a mug. "It's fine; picking up inappropriate men is your thing."

Mark frowned. "I'm not _inappropriate_."

Izzie looked at him incredulously. "Really? You don't think it would be inappropriate for you to sleep with Meredith, given your history with Derek's women?"

He grinned as she walked over to the table, carrying a brimming mug in each hand. "First of all, it was _one _woman, although I do see your point," he muttered as she placed the cups on the table, and then he grabbed her hand, pulling her into his lap. "But I'm not inappropriate for _you_."

Meredith smirked at them, sharing a look of surprise with Cristina. "Well, aren't you two…adorable."

Izzie rolled her eyes. "Shut up," she told her, and then pulled herself from Mark's lap after giving him a small smile.

As she walked to the stove and pulled out a skillet, Cristina turned to look at Mark. "So exactly how good is Barbie in bed? Because I have her pegged as kind of a prude, but if she's with _you_, well, maybe she's a tiger after all."

Izzie looked up sharply. "_Cristina_! You do _not _get to ask him that."

Cristina glared at Izzie as Meredith laughed. "Fine, whatever; I was just curious," she muttered.

Izzie shook her head disapprovingly as she cracked an egg on the edge of the counter and let the yolk fall onto the skillet. She worked silently, ignoring Meredith and Cristina's conversation concerning the many candidates who could help Meredith get over the fact that "Derek might sleep with Lexie _eventually_." Occasionally she would glance up and meet Mark's unwavering gaze, smiling at him giddily as she reluctantly admitted to herself that she was glad her roommates now knew about Mark.

The four of them all looked up when they heard the front door slam, staring at one another curiously. "Is that Alex?" Izzie asked, her attention diverted from the scrambling eggs.

Meredith shook her head. "I don't think so. He had to be at the hospital early this morning."

They stared at the doorway of the kitchen, and all four pairs of eyes widened with surprise when Derek sauntered through the threshold, his shoulders squared with resentment. His gaze went immediately to Meredith, and then angrily moved on to Mark. "Christ, I can't believe you," he muttered viciously.

"Derek…" Meredith called with surprise, standing up from her seat. "What're you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? I'm here because I heard a rumor that my _ex_ best friend left Joe's last night with my _ex_ girlfriend. I was sure that the rumor would be wrong, but I guess the joke's on me," he muttered, quickly advancing toward Mark.

Mark leaned back in his chair, looking fleetingly at Meredith as he braced himself against Derek's onslaught.

"Derek, nothing happened," Meredith rushed to say as he grabbed the lapels of Mark's shirt.

Derek laughed bitterly. "I _bet_."

Izzie gasped as Derek pulled Mark up from the chair angrily. "Derek, stop! Mark was with _me_. He's sleeping with _me_, not Meredith!"

Derek froze, turning around slowly to look at Izzie. "_You're_ sleeping with _Mark_?"

Cristina smirked, scooping a handful of cereal out of a Cheerios box as she watched the scene unfold with amusement. "I know. I was surprised, too. But hey, _go_ Izzie!"

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**SUPER IMPORTANT AN! There's a new McStizzie website that you ALL have to join ASAP! Katherine Austen created it, and it's fabulous :-) You can find the website address on my profile, or on hers! Okay, my little McStizzie lovers…now GO! Go frolic in Mark and Izzie paradise!**

**Oh, and just so you know, this fic is winding down. There will only be a few more chapters until the end :-( Just a warning.**


	10. Chapter 10

Meredith found her target exiting a patient's room, and she sped up, walking quickly down the hall to catch up. He looked at her sideways when she fell into step with him, raising his eyebrows as she smirked humorously. "Hey," she greeted.

Mark smirked back. "Dr. Grey."

She wiped the unprofessional grin from her face as two orderlies passed by, but when they were out of earshot, she peered at Mark once again, her eyes twinkling. "So…you and Izzie?"

He nodded in confirmation, unable to prevent the smile that came to his face at the thought. "Me and Izzie."

"How'd this happen?"

He stopped walking, turning his body so that he was looking at her. "Isn't this something that you should be talking to _her_ about? I'm not really up for girl talk, Grey."

She laughed, shaking her head lightly. "Yeah, I guess you're right." She grew serious moments later, looking at him pointedly. "You better not be using her, Mark. Izzie is the kind of person who gets attached quickly, and once you've awakened the beast, it won't be long before she-"

"Awakened the what?"

Meredith grinned at his look of perplexity. "The beast, Mark." His confused frowned deepened, and Meredith opened her mouth to explain, but closed it once again when she caught sight of Derek walking determinedly toward them. Meredith rolled her eyes as he approached. "I'm _so_ not doing this right now," she muttered, turning quickly on her heals and fleeing down the hallway.

Derek sighed as he walked up to Mark, his eyes following Meredith as she escaped around a corner. "Well, that was mature."

Mark chuckled. "Please don't tell me that you expect maturity from _Meredith_."

Derek glared at him. "Well, I expect her to _talk_ to me. I want to fix this, and I refuse to accept the idea that she fell out of love with me overnight."

"You're right; she didn't. She wouldn't care so much about you and her sister if she didn't still have feelings for you."

"There's nothing going on between Lexie and me," he snapped.

Mark rolled his eyes at Derek's defensive tone. "I _know_ that, but you have to prove that to Meredith. Just keep pushing her, Derek. I'm sure she'll come around eventually."

Derek frowned. "You're kind of freaking me out." At Mark's blank expression, he continued. "It seems wrong to be taking relationship advice from the man who, at one time, was sleeping with my wife."

Mark nodded. "Trust me, the irony isn't lost on me, either."

Derek glanced around, ensuring that the hallway was clear of nosy ears. "I'm sorry for, uh…attacking you this morning."

Mark laughed. "Don't worry about it. If I heard that you took Izzie home from a bar, I'd do the same thing."

Derek grinned at his words. "So you really have a thing for Stevens, huh?"

He looked up sharply. "No," Mark shrugged dismissively, suddenly looking uncomfortable. "I mean, maybe a _little_. Well, okay, maybe more than a little, but we're not, you know, in a relationship or anything. I mean, you know…we're _involved_, but we're not _exclusive_. Not that I would want to be with anyone else, because she's kind of a hand full all by herself. I'm not _in love_ with her or anything like that; I don't even have feelings for her, really. Okay, well, maybe that's not true. She's just-"

"Mark, shut up," Derek said, raising his eyebrows at Mark's stammering. His mouth closed immediately, his face flushing, and Derek laughed. "Wow, look at that. I never thought I'd live to see the day when a woman would have the power to reduce _Mark Sloan_ to the likes of a love-struck teenager."

Mark groaned. "I'm not love-struck, you asshole."

Derek grinned at his tone. His eyes left Mark's, glancing over his shoulder to see Izzie approaching them. "Speaking of the object of your affection…"

Mark rotated, his eyes meeting hers as she smiled at him. He turned back to look at Derek, his expression indicating that his presence was no longer welcome. Derek took the hint, nodding his head as his smirk deepened. "Alright, I'm leaving. But, uh, you want to grab a drink after work? Maybe you can share more of your newfound relationship wisdom."

Mark smiled, appreciating his friendly gesture. "A drink would be good."

Derek nodded, leaving Mark standing in the hallway, waiting for Izzie to catch up to him. When she did, she smiled at him, resisting the urge to kiss him in the open hallway. "Hey, you. I just wanted to see you before I left. My shift's over, and I'm about to head home."

Mark nodded, still frazzled by his semi-embarrassing conversation with Derek. "Um, okay."

Izzie laughed at his nervousness. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," he quickly replied. "I just have some patients I need to check on."

She frowned. "Oh, well okay then. Do you want to meet up later tonight? I can come over to the hotel after you leave the hospital."

Mark shifted nervously on his feet as Derek's comment about being love-struck ran through his mind. He wasn't love-struck, was he? Surely not. Mark Sloan didn't _do_ love-struck. "I actually have plans after work. Derek and I are going to get drinks."

Izzie's face fell with disappointment. "Okay, well maybe afterwards then."

Mark nodded, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. From it, he produced a plastic keycard. "Maybe you can come by around nine o'clock; I should be back by then, but if I'm not, here's a key to the room."

She pursed her lips, still frowning at his odd behavior. "Okay, thanks. Um, have fun with Derek."

He smiled slightly, trying to think of something clever to say to redeem himself for being lessened to a stammering fool. His mind was blank, though, so he simply walked away, leaving Izzie staring confusedly after him.

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Mark whistled happily as he walked down the hallway towards his hotel room. Drinks with Derek had gone well; better than well, actually. They'd spent much of the night reminiscing over memories from their childhood, even having a few chuckles over the fun times had after Derek had gotten married. Any tension between the two of them was temporarily forgotten as they consumed their fair share of Joe's supply of scotch, their conversation eventually evolving to include the women in their lives.

It was only eight o'clock, a full hour before Izzie was supposed to arrive to the hotel, but as Mark approached his room, he couldn't help but hope that Izzie was already there. He knew that he wasn't in love with her; it was too soon for that, and he would readily admit that they didn't know one another all that well. His feelings for her were unlike anything he'd ever experienced, though, because he actually found himself _wanting_ to know her. He wanted to know everything about her; her childhood, her likes and dislikes, her hopes, fears and dreams. He knew her body like the back of his hand, but he suddenly found himself want to know more than that. He was hesitant to admit it, but Mark found himself actually wanting to try this relationship thing that Izzie seemed to be so fond of.

He pulled out the new keycard that he'd gotten from the lobby, opening the door of his room and freezing in the threshold. His mouth fell open slightly as he stared at the woman sitting on his bed sipping a glass of champagne, outfitting in only a robe as her wet hair dripped onto the fluffy cotton terrycloth. She smirked at him when she saw him in the doorway, uncrossing her long legs and standing up from the bed.

"I thought you'd never get here," she murmured. "I used the key you gave me to get in."

He frowned, shutting the door behind him with a sigh. "What the hell are you doing here, Addison?"

The smile fell from her face at his wary tone. "Things are already crazy in Los Angeles, and I just thought-"

"And you thought you'd pay a visit to your personal manwhore? You thought that you could just leave Seattle, but that I'd be here waiting for you whenever you needed to get laid?"

Addison looked down shamefully, staring nervously at the glass in her hand as she struggled to find something to say. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize…I mean, I thought…"

He sighed, his expression growing remorseful as she trailed off. "Sorry, I shouldn't have snapped at you. I'm just surprised to see you here."

Addison nodded. "I know, but I needed to get out of Los Angeles. It's already not what I was hoping for. Apparently there are no cities in the world that are free of drama and heartache."

Mark chucked, kicking off his shoes. "No truer words have ever been spoken, Addie," he murmured, giving her a small smile as he walked to the bathroom. "Okay, let's talk after I take a shower, alright? That'll give you time to get dressed. You can't be in here dressed like _that_," he said dryly, eyeing the robe with the knowledge that there was nothing beneath the material.

She tilted her head, watching him intently. "Wow, you sure have changed in a short period of time."

He smirked. "You have no idea," he commented, shutting the door behind him as he entered the bathroom.

Addison smiled confusedly at the door for several moments. When she heard the shower cut on, she laughed a little, shaking her head in bewilderment as she wondered what in the world had gotten in to Mark.

She set her glass of champagne on the nightstand by the open bottle before walking over to the armchair in the corner of the room. She slipped the robe from her shoulders, allowing it to pool at her feet as she picked up the black lacy panties that were folded atop her clothes, pulling them over her hips.

As she fastened the clasp to the matching bra, she jumped with surprise, startled as the door of Mark's hotel room flew open behind her.

Addison turned around quickly, wholly aware of her near-nudity as she stared at the shocked woman standing in the doorway. "Dr. Stevens…" Addison mumbled with a mixture of surprise and embarrassment.

Izzie's couldn't move, her chest aching at the sight of Addison Montgomery standing in Mark's suite, dressed only in her black, overly expensive lingerie. Addison looked nearly as astonished to see _her_ standing in the doorway, and Izzie shifted her eyes awkwardly. She inhaled sharply as her gaze landed on an open bottle of champagne sitting on the nightstand, standing tall over the crystal champagne flute stained with dark red lipstick. "I'm sorry Dr. Montgomery, I should've…I mean, didn't know that you…I was just looking for Mark…um, for Dr. Sloan, and I…"

Addison quickly picked up her robe from the floor as Izzie stuttered nervously, still standing dejectedly in the doorway. "Oh, Mark _is_ here. He's in the shower…" she told her, pulling the robe over her body.

Izzie's eyes suddenly burned with tears as she became aware of the sound of running water coursing through the walls. She nodded, trying to keep the moisture from spilling over her lids. "Right…okay. Well, um, you know what? Just…just forget that I was here, okay? I'm sorry to bother you…"

Izzie couldn't get out of the room fast enough, pulling the door closed before racing down the hall. She raced to the stairwell, unable to bear the thought of waiting for an elevator on the same floor as Mark and Addison. She now knew why Mark had acted so strangely in the hallway of Seattle Grace earlier that day; he knew that he'd had plans to shack up with the fiery redhead only hours later. She couldn't believe she'd bought his lame excuse about meeting Derek for drinks. He wasn't meeting Derek; he was _fucking_ Addison Montgomery. And what was worse, he was planning on bringing an unsuspecting Izzie into his bed immediately following his tryst with Satan. _That bastard_. And to think, she never would have suspected had she not arrived at his hotel half and hour earlier than he'd expected.

The ride home was a blur. Tears fell from her eyes as she drove to the house on autopilot, barley seeing the road as she steered the car through traffic. When she walked through the front door, she was met with the curious stares of her roommates, all of whom looked up sharply when they heard the front door slam behind her.

Meredith frowned when she saw Izzie's tearstained face. "What's wrong?"

Izzie shook her head. "Nothing, I just need to be alone" she muttered, hurrying quickly toward the staircase before anyone could ask her further questions. She ascended the stairs two steps at a time, locking herself in her bedroom and throwing body against the mattress. She let the tears flow freely, a sob escaping her mouth as she buried her face against the plush pillow beneath her head.

When her cell phone began to ring moments later, Izzie rolled her eyes, taking a shaky breath as she pulled the shrilling device from her bag. Predictably, Mark's name was flashing across the screen, and Izzie hit the ignore button, unwilling to listen to any of his pathetic excuses.

She didn't know why she was so upset about this. It wasn't as though she and Mark had made any sort of commitment to one another. They weren't involved in a real relationship, and there were certainly no rules between them. If Mark wanted to sleep with Addison, that was his prerogative. She had no right to be angry.

But she was. She was immensely angry. And jealous and bitter. And hurt. Izzie Stevens felt more hurt than she had in a long time. She felt even more hurt than she had when she'd been rejected by George, even more hurt than when Callie had thrown the fact that they were starting a family into her face.

Izzie had an incredible urge to heave her phone against the wall when it began to ring again. Didn't he get it? Didn't he understand that she didn't want to speak to him?

She sighed with relief when the ringing ceased, ignoring the voicemail notification as she turned off the power of her phone.

There simply was nothing he could say that would make her feel better about finding his ex-lover standing virtually naked in his hotel room. No sir, there was no way to fix what he'd broken. They were through.


	11. Chapter 11

Meredith, Cristina and Alex were watching the end of the evening news with minor interest, more concerned with discussing Izzie than learning about Presidential approval ratings or the crime wave plaguing Seattle. "It had to be Sloan who made her so upset. He's such a dick," Alex scowled, shaking his head with displeasure.

Meredith frowned, her eyes shifting from the television to glance at the empty staircase in the hallway. "Maybe one of us should go check on her."

Cristina shrugged. "You can go. I don't work well with emotional basket cases."

"She's not an emotional basket case," Meredith admonished. "She's just…just…"

"An emotional basket case?"

Meredith glared warningly. "No, _Cristina_. Izzie's just…sensitive," she concluded hesitantly. "Whatever, someone needs to go make sure that she's okay. She's been up there for half an hour."

Alex and Cristina simply stared at Meredith expectantly. She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine, _I'll_ go." She stood up, ignoring their simultaneous smirks as she left the living room.

She was halfway up the staircase when she heard a knock on the front door. She sighed, turning around and walking toward the entrance of the house. A look of displeasure crossed her face when she swung open the door, revealing a scowling Mark Sloan standing in the threshold. "Where's Izzie?" he demanded.

Meredith swallowed, holding up her chin defiantly. "She's crying in her room, which I'm assuming is _your_ fault."

Mark rolled his eyes, pushing past her into the foyer. He halted when Cristina and Alex appeared before him, blocking his way to the staircase. "You should probably leave, Sloan," Alex warned, his eyes flashing with anger.

"This is between Izzie and me," Mark scowled, folding his arms across his chest. "You both need to get out of my way."

Cristina mimicked his motions, crossing her own arms as she looking down her nose at him. "I don't know what you did to Barbie, but you can't be here. We've made it a general rule not to allow penises in this house." Beside her, Alex cleared his throat, causing Cristina to roll her eyes. "Except for Evil Spawn's, of course."

Mark sighed. "I appreciate your concern for Izzie, but this whole thing is a misunderstanding. She thinks that I was with someone else, but…but I wasn't, and I need to fix this…I wouldn't be here if I didn't care about her."

Alex's face softened a bit, but Cristina remained motionless, her face still stern. "That's nice, but I don't really give a shit."

Again, Meredith glared at her. "I think we should stay out of this Cristina."

Cristina stared at her incredulously. "You're supposed to be my new lesbian soul sister. You're _supposed_ to back me up here."

For the first time since entering the foyer, Alex looked away from Mark, his eyes shifting to focus on Cristina. "Meredith's right. This should stay between Izzie and Sloan."

She shook her head disappointedly. "You guys suck," she told them with a frown, but she moved out of the way nonetheless, stepping to the side so that Mark could move past her to the staircase.

He made it upstairs in record time, not even bothering to knock on the door when he came to Izzie's room. He opened it, his chest aching with guilt when he found her curled up in the fetal position, hugging her knees to her chest. She was fast asleep, wearing only an oversized Washington State University t-shirt and panties, her eyes swollen and her cheeks stained with tears. Mark sighed, shutting the door quietly behind him.

The click of the door shutting jolted Izzie from her slumber, and she sat up quickly, her eyes flying to the doorway as she stared at Mark with confusion. She blinked, her forehead furrowed at she watched him bewilderedly. "Mark, what're you…" Her eyes widened as she remembered the events of the past hour, and she sat up straighter, her face hardening. "You need to leave. I don't want you here."

Mark ignored her, walking to the bed and sitting on the corner of the mattress. He sighed with frustration when she backed away from him, scooting to the edge of the bed to put space between their bodies. "Izzie, you have to listen to me. You don't know what you saw-"

"I know exactly what I saw!" she snapped, her eyes flashing with irritation. "I saw your half-naked ex lover standing in your hotel room while you were showering in the bathroom."

"I didn't know Addison was coming to Seattle, Iz. She-"

"I couldn't care less whether you _knew_ she was coming! What I care about is that you didn't respect me enough to stay away from her! That you _slept _with her knowing that I would be coming to your room later on! Did that thrill you, Mark? Did it excite you to think about screwing me on a bed that _reeked_ of Addison Montgomery?"

"Izzie-"

"No, you know what, Mark? Just forget about it. This is my fault. I told myself _repeatedly_ to stay away from you. I knew better than to get involved with someone like you…someone with so few sexual morals."

Mark's eyes narrowed irritably. He tried to remind himself that she was speaking out of anger, but she knew exactly how to push his buttons, and she'd done so with relative expertise. "Sexual morals? _You_ want to talk to _me_ about sexual morals?"

"What is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"Apparently you've forgotten how this whole thing between us started, Izzie. Well let me _refresh_ your memory. It all began with you sitting in my hotel getting _wasted_ after your little _boyfriend_ rejected you."

Her eyes narrowed. "What did you say to me?"

"You heard me, Izzie. I was sitting in the corner of the bar the whole time; I watched you. I watched you talking to George O'Malley, and I might not have been able to hear what was being said, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out what was going on between the two of you. No one looks at someone the way you were looking at O'Malley unless there's something going on. So cut the shit, Izzie. _You_ don't have the right to talk to _me_ about sexual morals when you're out _fucking_ another woman's husband."

Her cheeks reddened, her eyes filling with tears as she looked away from his face. "You need to leave, Mark," she whispered venomously, standing up from the bed and walking to the other end of the room, gazing sightlessly out the window.

He pursed his lips, shaking his head as he retreated toward her. "I'm not leaving. You don't get to judge me for something you know nothing about. Addison was just-"

She spun around quickly, her eyes widening when she found him directly behind her, his face just inches from hers. "I don't _want_ you here, Mark. I don't want you anywhere near me. I don't care what happened between you and Addison. There were no rules between us. You're free to be with whoever you want. So go…be free…you can screw all of Seattle for all I care."

He smiled bitterly. "You don't mean that. You _do_ care, Izzie. You know you do."

"I do _not_! So get the hell out of my house, Mark!"

"I'm not leaving until we can talk like _adults_." She scowled, pushing past him, but he grabbed her wrist, pulling her body to his so that she was molded against him. "Stop trying to push me away," he demanded irritably.

Izzie stuck out her jaw defiantly, struggling against his chest, but the more she moved, the more aware she became of his arousal pressing hard against the pit of her belly. She swallowed, her angry eyes meeting his. "_Leave_."

His gaze remained unwavering. "_No_."

She fumed, struggling to breathe through her anger. She _hated_ him at that moment. She hated him for blatantly hurting her by sleeping with Addison and by saying such hateful words regarding her and George, but most of all, she hated Mark because of his unfailing ability to make her want him. "You're a bastard," she seethed.

He grinned as he saw the lustful expression on her face. "And it _kills _you that you want me despite that."

She moved fast, her hand flying up with record speed to strike him hard across the cheek, but he caught her wrist just before her hand could connect with his skin. "Nice try," he gloated arrogantly, his lips crashing against hers an instant later.

She didn't fight him. For her, his bruising kiss was like a breath of oxygen for a drowning swimmer, and she moaned, moving her body so that her breasts caressed the strong muscles of his chest. "Christ, Izzie," he muttered, pulling the oversized t-shirt from her small frame, leaving her standing before him in only a pair of lacy hipster panties.

He took her plump bottom lip between his teeth, tugging on it ever so slightly as her hands worked quickly to unbutton the front of his jeans. He stepped out of them moments later when she'd worked the denim down his legs along with his cotton boxer briefs, and then he propelled her backwards, pinning her against the dresser.

She winced as the corner of the furniture bit into her lower back, and she retaliated, rising to her toes so that she could take his earlobe between his lips, sucking lightly before allowing her teeth to clamp down just hard enough to cause him to growl. His hands flew around her waist, bringing her body upwards and pushing her onto the dresser, ignoring the picture frame and candles that were knocked to the floor in her wake. His hands snaked into the waistband of her panties, and she lifted her hips, allowing him to edge the pink lace down her legs.

Mark dropped them carelessly to the floor, wrapping his hands around her thighs and pulling her hips to the edge of the dresser. Her eyes met his, staring unwaveringly at him as he thrust roughly inside of her. Izzie bit her bottom lip to stifle a moan, her head dropping backwards as sensation after sensation tore through her body.

She didn't even notice her head thumping against the mirror behind her as he propelled himself into her again and again. Her hips rose and fell in synch with his, and she reached up to hold onto to his waist. He caught her hands before they could connect with his skin, trapping her wrists inside his hands and urging them above her head.

His eyes rose from hers, connecting with his own in the reflection of the mirror. As he watched himself, his eyes darkened at the erotic image of his body moving over Izzie's, and he groaned, increasing his pace.

Izzie's mouth fell open as he drove into her with surprising force, and she closed her eyes in ecstasy, her body clenching around his moments later. Within seconds, Mark's own body tensed as he reached his peak, and then he was falling on top her, his forehead resting onto hers.

Izzie swallowed, opening her eyes as she struggled to regain her breath. As she listened to Mark's own ragged breathing, she couldn't help but mentally picture him with Addison, her mind conjuring up an image of him lying with her just so, his forehead resting against hers as he breathed heavily post-orgasm. The image made her feel dirty, dirty and used, and Izzie's face twisted as she struggled to keep her tears at bay. She brought her hands up, placing them against his chest and pushing him away with all the force she could muster. "I still hate you," she whispered heatedly, her voice laced with bitterness and hurt.

His eyes narrowed as he stepped away from her, and he shook his head angrily. "That's really nice, Izzie," he replied sarcastically, shaking his head disappointedly.

She adverted her eyes as he dressed quickly, allowing her own body to slide weakly from the dresser. Standing on trembling legs, she walked to her closet, covering her nudity with her robe.

Mark sighed, walking to her door and turning the knob. He paused before leaving, turning back and looking at her with a regretful expression. "I didn't sleep with Addison. I didn't kiss her…I didn't even touch her, Izzie. I wouldn't do that to you," he confided quietly, and then he walked out, pulling the door closed behind him.

He traveled quickly down the stairs, ignoring the curious looks of Izzie's roommates as he hurried toward the door.

"Mark-"

"_Don't_, Meredith," he snapped, racing toward the exit and slamming the door behind him.

Cristina raised her newly grown-in eyebrows at her roommates. "Well that was…interesting."

Alex nodded, his eyes traveling toward the stairs. "Okay, who's going to make sure she's okay?"

"I'll go," Meredith volunteered, already walking toward the steps.

Cristina shrugged. "Strangely, I actually _care_ about what happened up there," she remarked, already hot on Meredith's heals.

Alex narrowed his eyes. "Well I'm not getting left behind," he muttered, moving quickly to catch up with his roommates.

The three of them glanced apprehensively at one another when they were standing outside of Izzie's bedroom. "Iz?" Meredith called out, knocking lightly on the door.

She was met with silence, so Cristina didn't hesitate to turn the knob, pushing the door open with ease. On the other side, they found Izzie sitting on her bed, clutching the shirt that Mark had left in her locker to her chest.

They walked slowly inside, noting curiously the fallen candles and picture frame that lay beside her dresser, and the abandoned panties lying next to them. Cristina smirked at Alex, but Meredith ignored them, walking quickly toward the bed and sitting down beside Izzie. "Iz, are you alright?"

Izzie sighed, trying to plaster a smile on her face as she nodded her head. "I'm fine."

Meredith bit her lip lightly, her expression displaying her disbelief regarding Izzie's statement. "Izzie-"

"No, seriously, I'm okay. Mark's…well, we're not good for each other, Mer. We…I think I'm better off without him. I don't want to get hurt again."

Meredith nodded sympathetically, pulling Izzie's hand into her own. "I understand," she said quietly. "But that doesn't mean that you don't want him anyway."

Izzie turned to look at her, her eyes wide as she met Meredith's in the dimly lit room. She nodded lightly, taking in a shaky breath as her head dropped to Meredith's shoulder, her long, blonde locks falling over her face.

And she cried.


	12. Chapter 12

Just as she had for the previous two weeks, three days, and fourteen hours, Isobel Stevens walked the halls of Seattle Grace Hospital with a false smile plastered to her face, acting pleasantly and cooperatively with each patient and hospital employee, yet praying that time would somehow speed up, effectively ending her shift so that she could seek solace in the quiet emptiness of her bedroom. Every time she turned a corner, every time she entered a new room, and _each_ and _every_ time the elevator doors would slowly part open, her heart would speed up in her chest, her breath hitching in her throat as she solemnly raised her eyes to see if _he_ would be standing just a few feet away.

No one was more surprised than she that luck had been on her side. Ever since leaving her house following their intense encounter in her bedroom, he had made no effort to push her toward any sort of reconciliation, and she had been grateful. For two weeks, three days, and fourteen hours, Isobel Stevens had gone without the slightest bit of contact with Mark Sloan. The sometimes confining walls of Seattle Grace had, for once, proven to be large enough to hold both of them. The only times they had been near one another, in fact, had been quick glimpses across the cafeteria and a couple of awkward attempts not to be caught staring at one another as they sat at opposite ends of the Emerald City Bar. She was fully aware that she wouldn't be able to avoid him forever, that eventually the topic of their heated split would have to be broached, but her reluctance to have that particular confrontation fueled her endeavor to avoid him like the plague and to gladly accept all the luck that she could get.

At that precise moment, though, as she pushed her way through the stairwell door en route to radiology, Isobel Stevens realized that her luck had finally run out.

Izzie's eyes dropped to the ground when she saw Mark making his way up the stairs, knowing that their paths were finally going to cross. Her chest burned as she listened to his footsteps echoing on the concrete walls, growing closer and closer to her with each step he look. When the reverberating of his shoes ceased, Izzie allowed herself to glance upwards, her eyes meeting his from where he stood a mere three feet away.

The look between them was intense, as if they'd suddenly unwillingly entered into a childish staring contest. Izzie tried to ignore the wary lines that marred his forehead as he drank in her appearance, knowing instinctively that he was critically assessing her exhausted face. She couldn't help but wonder if he recognized the physical consequences of her misery for what they were, if seeing the dark circles beneath her eyes and the ashen, sunken look of her cheeks gave him a twinge of satisfaction.

Beginning the night of their final tryst, Izzie had been unable to sleep, lying awake for hours as she stared at the shadows that danced across her ceiling in the dimness of her moonlit bedroom. She liked to blame her inability to fall asleep on the constant stress of her newly begun residency. It was easier for her to think that the pressure of her career prevented her sleep rather than to acknowledge that she, in the short time they were together, had gotten used to the amazing and often unpredictable relationship that she had formed with Mark, and that she was now unable to find rest because her body seemed to constantly ache with symptoms of withdrawal.

Days after her frustrating insomnia had begun, Izzie had surrendered herself to the sleepless nights, often rising at two or three in the morning and making her way to the kitchen. Each day her roommates would awaken to countertops filled with delicious baked goods. Muffins and cakes, cookies and brownies, and various other assorted sweets were constantly being thrown into the garbage, growing stale due to their inability to be eaten quickly enough as Izzie continued to produce more and more with each passing day. Despite the pounds of sugar that she mixed with equally succulent ingredients, the sweet aromas of the baking treats did little to whet her appetite. In fact, the anxious throb in the pit of her stomach seemed to have an acidic effect on her desire to enjoy food, leaving Izzie uncharacteristically devoid of an appetite.

Now as Izzie stood before him, she was increasingly aware of her exhausted appearance. She pushed aside her desire to win their unofficial staring contest, breaking his gaze as she bowed her head, giving in to her self-consciousness by crossing her arms across her chest. She swallowed nervously, her heart drumming loudly in her ears as she stood before him awkwardly.

Before she realized what was happening, she saw Mark's hand rising upwards, reaching toward her in an effort to gain her diverted attention. "Izzie…"

She jumped at the sound of him quietly uttering her name. The resonance of his deep voice sent a quiver through her body, and she looked up quickly, trying to keep her face free of the inner turmoil that she was currently experiencing as she stood before him. A part of her wanted to shove his hand away, to turn around and flee the stairwell, but there was a greater part of her that couldn't disregard the fiery desire that she felt as his piercing eyes seemingly attempted to burn a hole into her soul.

She breathed in a jagged breath, her eyes flickering to his outstretched hand before settling on his face. She blinked once, then twice as she struggled to formulate words that would seem appropriate for their first meeting.

Apparently, there were none.

She swallowed around a lump forming in her throat, trying to keep her tears at bay as she lifted her chin proudly. "Yes, Dr. Sloan?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, his hand immediately falling to his side as he set his jaw irritably. With a slight nod of his head, he began walking again, moving past her to the door behind her body. "Have a good day, _Dr_. Stevens," he told her, the words sounding rough as they echoed in her ears long after the door slammed shut behind him.

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Izzie pressed her lips tightly together, sniffing back her tears as she sliced a newly cooled batch of brownies into tiny squares. She sighed when she heard the front door open and then close, knowing instantly that her roommates had arrived home from the Emerald City Bar.

Within seconds their noses had lured them into the kitchen, and the three of them sat themselves in the stools across from Izzie, smiling at her expectantly as though they were children awaiting an after school snack. Izzie frowned, putting down the knife as she looked at them impatiently. "_What_?" she snapped.

At her question, Alex looked at her as though she'd suddenly lost her mind, as though it was unthinkable that she didn't know why they were sitting before her. "We're here for the drunk-eat."

Izzie's eyes narrowed with confusion. "The what?"

"The drunk-eat, Izzie. I'm wasted, and I'm _starving_. Feed me," Cristina commanded, her body swaying into Alex's as they huddled against the counter like vultures.

Izzie rolled her eyes, picking up the knife again as she continued to slice the brownies. "Feed yourselves," she muttered. "Everything's on the counter."

Cristina scowled, leaning forward so that she could pluck a chocolate chip muffin off an already overflowing plate. "You know I like you bitter and pissed off, Barbs, but you're starting to get on my nerves. You should think about getting yourself laid. You were seriously a lot more enjoyable when Sloan was hanging around."

At her words, Izzie's eyes instantly filled with tears, and she threw the knife against the counter so that it bounced, clattering loudly to the floor. The others jumped at her outburst, looking up at her with wide eyes. "Could you _not_ mention him?" she demanded irritably, her voice quivering with emotion.

Alex and Cristina looked down at the counter uncomfortably, but Meredith's gaze remained unwavering as she stared at her with sympathy. "Iz, I know you miss him, but you can't wallow over this forever."

Izzie glared at her. "I'm not wallowing," she insisted, wiping the corner of her eyes with her shirtsleeves.

"Iz-"

"I'm _not_!" she snapped, but her face softened moments later as her shoulders slumped with defeat. "I just…I _do_ miss him, but I'm scared of getting hurt. I haven't had the greatest luck with men this year," she admitted, her gaze turning to her obviously insulted roommate. "No offense, of course."

Alex shrugged. "Whatever," he grudgingly replied.

She closed her eyes, pressing her weight into the countertop. "I've just been so disappointed, and when…and when I realized how much Mark could hurt me, I just didn't know what else to do."

Cristina snorted, ignoring her mouthful of muffin as she spoke. "So to keep yourself from getting hurt, you broke things off with _McSteamy_?"

Izzie stared at her blankly, chewing anxiously on her bottom lip. "Well, yeah…"

"Well that's just _stupid_," Cristina muttered.

Izzie's eyes sharpened irritably. "_What_?"

"That's stupid," Cristina replied, saying the words slowly as though Izzie were incompetent. "You'd have to be an idiot to break up with someone just to keep from getting hurt later on."

Meredith grinned at Izzie's scowling expression. "She's kind of right, Iz. I realize that you're scared Mark will break your heart, but look at you _now_. You're hurting, which is exactly what you wanted to prevent in the first place, so what have you really accomplished?"

Izzie frowned, her eyes shifting to Alex's face as he slowly chewed on a slice of pound cake. When his eyes met hers, he offered her a smile, knowing that she was looking to him to back her up. "I know that I was an ass about you and Sloan, and I realize that you want me to agree with you on this one, but Iz, they're totally right. If he's who you want to be with..." She lowered her eyes to hide her quivering chin, but Alex leaned forward, momentarily covering her hand with his own so that she was forced to meet his gaze. "I hate Mark Sloan, but if you like him, I guess I could _learn_ to like him. I just want you to be happy."

Meredith smiled at her, nodding her head in agreement. "Me too."

Cristina scowled when Meredith abruptly elbowed her in the ribs. "_Fine_, I do, too, but just for the record, it wouldn't hurt if you'd throw in a little 'bitter and pissed off' just to balance things out."

Izzie chuckled, wiping away a tear that had slyly escaped her eye. She untied her apron, setting the pink and white striped material on the counter and walking slowly around the kitchen island. "I think I'm going to go to bed," she told them tiredly, eyeing the food. "Can you guys take care of this?"

Alex and Cristina grinned, immediately standing from their stools and grabbing the plates full of baked goods, setting them in front of their seats. "Don't worry, we've got it covered," Alex muttered, already stuffing a bite of brownie into his mouth.

Meredith laughed, shaking her head at the site of her roommates devouring the desserts. She turned back to Izzie, eyeing her as she stood in the doorway. "Will you please think about what we said?"

Izzie offered her a small smile, nodding her head lightly. "I'll think about it, but maybe _you_ should try taking your own advice for once," she quietly responded, causing Meredith to scowl.

When Meredith traveled upstairs an hour later, her stomach aching from her binge on leftover coconut cake, she stopped by Izzie's room to check on her, and she couldn't help but smile at the site before her as she peaked through the cracked doorway. With a light chuckle, she placed her hand on the knob, shaking her head gently as she quietly shut the door of the empty bedroom.

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As the key slid easily into the electronic slot, unlocking Mark's hotel room door with a _click_, Izzie couldn't help but wonder if she still had a right to enter his room without a prior invitation. _Too late now_, she wryly thought, pushing the door open and entering the room cloaked in darkness.

She held her breath, scared that the noise of her breathing would somehow seem irreverent in the otherwise silent suite. Carefully slipping off her shoes as she shut the door behind her, she turned toward the bed, blindly feeling her way as she traveled across the room.

When her foot hit the metal bed frame, she paused, mentally preparing herself for the possible backlash as she carefully lifted the sheets covering the bed. She could faintly see the outline of his slumbering body, the sharp contours of his chest peaking out from beneath the comforter. She took in a nervous breath before lowering herself to the mattress, sliding across the cool sheets until her body was pressed against his.

She could tell the instant he became aware of her presence, knowing that he was awake as soon as he went ridged when her warm skin came into contact with his naked body. His eyes slowly opened, adjusting in the darkness as he watched her with a blank expression. Izzie's heart fluttered, a nervous ache appearing in her stomach as she waited for his reaction.

He surprised her when his arms snaked out, wrapping around her frame and pulling her closer toward him. Her eyes initially widened in shock at his easy acceptance, and she briefly wondered if he was even aware of what was going on.

He let out an anxious breath, his cheek falling to her forehead when he felt the softness of her body pressing into his. "Izzie…"

She relaxed her muscles as she realized that he actually _did_ know what was happening, willing herself not to cry as she carefully molded herself against him. "I'm sorry," she whispered shakily, her hands coming up against his chest. "I-"

"It's fine."

She paused, unprepared for his forgiving response. "It's…it's fine? That's all you have to say?"

He smiled at her nervousness, resting his chin on the top of her hair as he breathed in the feminine scent that he'd missed with alarming intensity. "That's it _for now_. I don't want to talk about anything tonight; I just want to lay with you."

Izzie nodded, hoping that he didn't notice the tear that had rolled off her chin, disappearing onto the planes of his chest. "Okay," she whispered, her hands rising up so that her fingers could clench the muscles of his shoulders. She sighed, her mouth closing, then opening, and then closing again as she attempted to comply with his request, but no matter how hard she tried to remain quiet, she couldn't dismiss the feeling that she might explode if she didn't immediately utter the words that she'd practiced over and over during her drive to the Archfield. "It's just…it's just that it's not okay. I can't _not_ talk about it; I need to tell you how sorry I am, how-"

"Iz-"

"No, Mark, I _need _to. I should've given you the benefit of the doubt where Addison was concerned. I mean, not that you've ever given me a reason to trust you, but you've never actually given me a reason _not_ to, either. _Sure_, you've been a bit of a manwhore since coming to Seattle, but that was before we started our, uh, our _whatever_ you want to call it, and-" She groaned in frustration, realizing that she was rambling. With a sigh, she tried again. "When I saw her standing in your room…_god_, Mark, you have no idea how…how _terrible_ it was to think that you'd been with her…to think that _I_ hadn't been enough for you. I felt like I'd been slapped in the face, _literally slapped_, and even when you told me what happened, I couldn't forget that feeling of rejection and hurt. I don't know what I would do if you ever _really_ betrayed me like that. And it's scary, you know? It's scary to think that someone has that much _power_ over my feelings, especially when-"

"Izzie, stop talking," he whispered, interrupting her thoughts as his lips captured hers in a kiss filled with passion and pent up frustration. She moaned as he took her lower lip between his, sucking gently before thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Her toes curled as goose bumps covered her body, her desire heightening as he ravished her lips in a kiss that left her breathless. When he pulled away from her, he smirked knowingly, satisfied with himself as he watched her panting in the darkness. "Do you think you can be quiet now?"

She swallowed, staring at him earnestly with wide eyes as she nodded slowly. "Probably," she whispered.

She settled against him, concentrating on his breathing as she placed her head over his heart. Silence engulfed the room as they lay entangled in one another's bodies, Mark's hand slowly stroking her back in rhythmic circles. Izzie was nearly asleep when a thought suddenly occurred to her, and she opened her eyes, staring blindly into the darkness. "Did you know that I was coming?"

"Hmm?"

"You didn't seem very surprised when I came in. Did you know that I was going to come?"

He pursed his lips in thought, his hand momentarily stilling on the middle of her back. "I didn't think that you'd come tonight, but I thought that you would probably come eventually," he admitted. "I'm glad that I didn't have to wait, though. I've missed having you beside me."

She turned her head, angling her face so that she could stare into his face. "Well I missed being beside you, a lot more than I thought I would," she acknowledged with a small smile. "But I was still afraid to come."

He stared at her curiously, his eyes narrowing on her face. "Then why did you?"

She shrugged, a small grin coming to her face. "I couldn't stay away, I guess. I think I might be a little bit addicted to you," she teased.

He smiled, resuming his rhythmic caresses. "Really? Because I think I might be falling a little bit _in love_ with you."

She blew out a surprised breath, her eyes going wide with astonishment as they sparkled with tears. For the first time in Isobel Steven's life, she was truly speechless.

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End file.
